


Harry Potter at the Knees of the Marauders'

by BakenandEggs



Series: Harry Potter in the Claw of the Raven [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Child Abuse, Dumbledore Bashing, Gen, Hogwarts Second Year, Prankster Harry Potter, Pureblood Culture, Pureblood Society, Ravenclaw Harry Potter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-02
Updated: 2016-05-17
Packaged: 2018-05-04 14:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 27
Words: 96,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5338217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BakenandEggs/pseuds/BakenandEggs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry returns to Hogwarts for his second year. A year that will be filled with books, good friends, basilisks, quidditch, prattish friends, horrible dreams, and pranks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I am very excited to begin sharing this story with all of you. My method when I post a story is to finish (or in this case almost finish) it before posting the first chapter and then to post one chapter a week. So you can expect a new chapter every Thursday (or possibly Wednesday for most of you since I'm from New Zealand).
> 
> A huge thank you to Kakariki - who is not only my wonderful sister, but is also my beta. A thank you to my other two two sisters as well, H and T, for their encouragement.

It was all just a bit of fun really. John and his friends had been breaking into the Riddle Place for years and they had become quite good at it – old Frank the gardener hardly ever caught them these days. Of course it was a lot harder to creep around quietly when you were smashed.

A fact that Philip proved when he stumbled and knocked over one of the old dusty chairs in the dining room.

“Shhh!” John slurred. “Old Frank’ll hear you.”

Philip snorted as he tried to right the chair. “Yeah right, he’s so old he wouldn’t hear a bomb going off.”

There was a weird hissing sound and John spun around to glare at Richard, almost falling over in the process. “Oi, don’t do that. It’s bloody creepy, mate.”

Richard looked offended. “I didn’t do nothing!”

“Come on.” Philip said impatiently. “I hid the hash upstairs.”

They continued their not so quiet trek upstairs, halting suddenly at the top of the staircase when they saw a light in one of the rooms.

“What’s that?” Richard whispered loudly.

“How the bloody hell should I know?” Philip snapped.

John walked as quietly as he could towards the door, swearing when he tripped over his feet a metre from the door.

“Shhh!” Richard hissed before giggling.

“Wormtail!” A high pitched imperious sounding voice called from behind the door. “Who is making that noise?”

There was a shuffling noise and suddenly an ugly, pudgy man was peering at them from inside the room. John scurried back to join his friends at the top of the staircase.

“What the hell?”

“Muggles, master.” The ugly man announced.

“Kill them.” The high pitched voice ordered.

John yelped in shock and took a step backwards, yelping again when he and his friends all fell over and began tumbling down the stairs.

“Shit!” Philip snarled when they landed at the bottom of the stairs.

“What the hell was that?” Richard asked loudly.

“Run!” John scrambled to his feet, ignoring the pain in the shoulder he had landed on, and trying to tug his friends to their feet.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Philip grumbled as he tottered to his feet and began stumbling towards the door.

John looked towards the stairs and was horrified to see that the ugly man had followed them and was pointing a stick at them.

“Come on, Rich!” John tugged his friend upright and began pulling him towards the door.

“Avada Kedavra.” The ugly man said loudly and John stared at the green light that suddenly began flying towards him. It was just like in that stupid Robot Jox movie his brother had made him watch.

Remembering just how dangerous the green light had been in the movie, John dodged away from the light and continued to drag Richard out of the house.

The ugly man snarled and sent the green light at them again. It almost hit him, but John managed to dodge it again and finally he and Richard were outside. He slammed the door behind them and looked around for Philip who was staring at the closed door, his mouth open.

“Did you see that?” Philip asked in amazement. “He had a ray gun!”

“Come on!” John snapped. “Help me carry this idiot. I think he passed out.”

Carrying Richard was a lot easier with Philip’s help and within minutes they had made it back to the edge of town. When John was sure it was safe, he dropped Richard on the ground and flopped down beside him.

“What the hell was that?”

“Hell if I know.” Philip sat down beside him. “Did you see that ray gun? It was awesome!”

 


	2. Chapter 1

Harry started awake in fright, his scar was burning terribly – just like it had at the Welcoming Feast the year before. He gritted his teeth and buried his head in his pillow, trying to ignore the way the pain was making his eyes water.

It took a few minutes, but eventually the pain ceased and Harry opened his eyes. There was a faint light coming through the curtains which meant that it was almost morning and Aunt Petunia would be banging on his door soon.

Harry got out of bed and sat at his desk to record what he could remember about his dream. There wasn’t much, mostly just that it had been angry – if dreams could be angry.

When he had finished writing down everything, Harry addressed the letter to Healer Axecure at Gringotts and gave it to Hedwig to deliver.

Hedwig had only just gone when there was a thumping on his door, accompanied by Aunt Petunia’s shrill voice.

“Wake up!”

Harry groaned, he just wanted to go back to sleep. It hadn’t been the most restful night he’d ever had and not just because of the pain in his scar. It was hard to sleep when he was hungry and the Dursleys not feeding him seemed so much worse now that he was used to eating regularly. He remembered going a whole week without food when he was younger and here he was, having been home from Hogwarts for two weeks, and still struggling to go without food for even two days. It had become a pattern, the Dursleys would starve him for two days and then on the third day Cousin Narcissa would feed him during their tutoring session. Harry could only imagine how hungry he would be if it wasn’t for Draco’s mother.

Thankfully, Hedwig, his owl, and Sarko and Sativa, his pet snakes, were able to catch their own food. He hated the idea of his pets being hungry because of the Dursleys.

 “Boy?!” Aunt Petunia’s voice came again from outside his door.

“Coming, Aunt Petunia.” Harry called, quickly pulling on some of Dudley’s old clothes and wincing when the clothing irritated the welts on his back. His Uncle had been furious that Harry had come back and had been taking out his displeasure on Harry – it was nothing Harry wasn’t used to. Well, nothing Harry hadn’t been used to before attending Hogwarts, but, like the hunger pains, it all seemed worse now that he knew what it was like not to be covered in bruises.

Breakfast was the usual affair, Harry made it quickly and efficiently and then served it to the Dursleys. He tried not to stare longingly at the food, but judging by Aunt Petunia disgusted sneer he hadn’t been successful. On the other hand, Aunt Petunia’s disgusted glare could be due to the fact that Cousin Narcissa was coming later that day to pick him up for his tutoring session.

So far the tutoring sessions had been brilliant. Aunt Narcissa wasn’t just teaching him wizarding etiquette, though that stuff was really interesting too, she had also started teaching him the business side of being a Head of House. She was even teaching him French. Apparently both the Potters and Blacks had a lot of financial dealing in France, and knowing French would make handling them easier.

Following that logic Harry had decided that he wanted to learn Gobbledygook too, but he would have to teach himself since Cousin Narcissa didn’t know the language.

By the time nine o’clock came around, Harry had changed into some of his nicer muggle clothes and was waiting in the Dursleys’ back garden for Cousin Narcissa to arrive. He had a set of robes in his school bag, though not his wand – Uncle Vernon still had it hidden somewhere.

At exactly nine, Cousin Narcissa appeared out of thin air with a quiet popping sound.

“Merry meet, Harry.”

“Merry meet.” Harry bowed carefully to her, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows.

“Very nicely done.” Cousin Narcissa approved as she held her arm out to Harry.

Harry gripped her arm obediently before closing his eyes and holding his breath as she apparated them away.

When Harry opened his eyes again he was surprised to see that were in Diagon Alley rather than Malfoy Manor. He followed Cousin Narcissa through the Alley and then into Gringotts.

“I have set up an appointment for you with the Potter Account Goblin.” Cousin Narcissa informed him quietly as they made their way towards one of the free counters.

Harry grinned inwardly at the news, he’d been looking forward to seeing Baknog again.

“Your Account Goblin has requested that he meet with you privately for the first hour.” Cousin Narcissa continued. “After which I will join you.”

Baknog was just as stern as Harry had remembered him being, but he looked relatively pleased to see Harry. Though it really was hard to tell.

“Come along, Mr. Potter.” Baknog led him through the corridors and then into a room that Harry recognised from his last visit to the bank.

“Merry meet, Healer Axecure.” Harry smiled to the Goblin Healer. “Did you get my letter?”

“Merry meet, Mr. Potter. Yes, I did.” Axecure nodded curtly. “Lay down on the bed.”

Harry obeyed her quickly, wincing when his damaged back hit the bed, and found himself staring at the same swirling patterns he had stared at the previous year.

Healer Axecure hovered her hand over Harry’s face and, much like she had the year before, slowly moved it down his body. Harry winced when he realised that she was scanning his body again. It had been bad enough when she had found all his injuries last year, did she have to find out about them again this year? On the bright side she would probably heal them for him, which came with its own bad side since Uncle Vernon would definitely freak out if Harry’s injuries just disappeared.

Eventually Healer Axecure stopped and, after giving Harry permission to sit up again, left the room.

Harry turned his attention to Bagnok who was standing near the door. “Thank you for all you did for Lord Black.”

Bagnok looked momentarily taken aback before nodded sharply in acknowledgement.

Healer Axecure returned after a few minutes and, just like she had the year before, began speaking angrily to Baknog in Gobblygook.

“You are once again suffering from an abnormal number of contusions, Mr. Potter.” Healer Axecure addressed Harry.

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry nodded.

“You are still living with your muggle relatives then?” Healer Axecure asked sternly.

Harry just nodded.

Healer Axecure made a snarling sound. “You are also showing the beginning signs of malnourishment again. I will provide you with a potion that will ensure that you intake as many nutrients as you require.”

Harry smiled gratefully. “You can do that? Brilliant!”

“Normally I would heal your contusions immediately,” Healer Axecure continued. “However, I suspect the muggles would not respond well. I can heal your cracked ribs without removing the visible signs.”

Harry grinned, that was perfect. Healer Axecure was as good as her word and within minutes much of Harry’s pain had disappeared, though the bruising still remained.

“You will remember that I told you I would be running more tests on your scar?” Healer Axecure asked him sternly. “Healer Benthog will be assisting me.”

Harry frowned, he wasn’t sure he liked the idea of anyone else being involved.

“Healer Benthog has been sworn to secrecy.” Healer Axecure reassured him gruffly as Baknog left the room. “He is the foremost expert on curse scars.”

Harry sighed. “Alright, but he doesn’t need to know about the other stuff, does he?”

“It is doubtful that your other injuries will register on the scans he will be performing.” Was all Healer Axecure managed to say before Baknog returned with another goblin.

Healer Benthog was a bald goblin with a brown beard and even bigger ears than Baknog.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded politely.

Healer Benthog nodded abruptly in response before greeting Healer Axecure in Gobbledygook.

Harry sighed, he really needed to learn how to speak the goblin language. He was sick of not understanding what they were saying about him. Maybe he could get Baknog to teach him or at least recommend some books.

1-1-1

By the time the two healers finally released Harry from their care, Cousin Narcissa was waiting for him in Baknog’s office. What followed were six very long hours as Baknog began explaining the details of Potter Accounts to Harry. It wasn’t that the details were uninteresting exactly, but neither were they particularly exciting and Harry wasn’t going to be able to do anything with his new knowledge for three more years. The most relevant information Harry learnt was that Headmaster Dumbledore was his magical guardian. Harry had groaned at that, much to Cousin Narcissa’s disapproval, why couldn’t his magical guardian have been someone nice like Lord Malfoy?

Unfortunately, it turned out that six hours wasn’t nearly enough time for Harry to become properly acquainted with the Potter Accounts, and Harry also ended up spending the following five tutoring sessions in Baknog’s office.

It wasn’t all bad though, as the more Harry learnt about the financial and business side of things, the more he enjoyed it and by the last session he was peppering Baknog and Cousin Narcissa with question after question to help himself understand it all better.

After the six tutoring sessions spent in Baknog’s office, Cousin Narcissa went back to teaching him wizarding etiquette and French at Malfoy Manor which was brilliant because it meant he got to spend time with Draco.

He didn’t see much of Draco – his cousin had his own tutors that he studied with – but they always spent their lunch breaks together, mostly on their brooms. Draco was determined to be picked for the Slytherin Quidditch team and Harry’s love of flying meant he was happy to help his cousin practise.

They were too busy practising difficult Quidditch manoeuvres to really talk much, but occasionally Draco would make a derogatory comment and muggles, or muggleborns, and Harry would have to bite his tongue so not to snap. There was no point arguing with Draco about it, particularly since Draco’s hatred of muggles came from his father, so Harry had decided he would just have to prove the worthiness of muggles to his cousin another way.

“Cousin Narcissa, may I ask a question?” Harry asked respectfully during one of his lessons on entertaining guests.

“You may.” Cousin Narcissa allowed as she politely sipped at her tea.

“Why is it that Draco has not received any education about the muggle world?”

Cousin Narcissa lifted an eyebrow daintily. “Because he has no need of it, naturally.”

“But you know about the muggle world.” Harry pointed out. “You know what sort of clothes to wear when you’re picking me up. Draco would probably just go in his robes.”

“May I ask your reason for this line of questioning?” Cousin Narcissa asked.

Harry stiffened his shoulders to keep from shrugging. “I just thought it might be fun to show Draco around the muggle world sometime.”

“I see.” Cousin Narcissa said with a nod of acknowledgement. “I shall consider it.”

Harry bowed from his seated position. “Thank you, Cousin.”

1-1-1

It was three days later, during Harry’s next tutoring session, when Cousin Narcissa next brought up the subject.

“I have considered your suggestion, Harry.” She told him cordially over tea and scones.

Harry looked up hopefully, before quickly hiding his emotion under a blank mask when Cousin Narcissa frowned disapprovingly.

“You and Draconus may spent three afternoons in the muggle world during August.” Cousin Narcissa told him. “You will be responsible for planning appropriate activities for those afternoons. These plans must be submitted for my approval by the end of July.”

Harry bowed to her from his seat. “Thank you, Cousin Narcissa.”

Cousin Narcissa acknowledged his thanks with a nod. “This morning we will be discussing betrothal contracts.”

“Betrothal contracts?” Harry repeated in horror.

Cousin Narcissa cleared her throat disapprovingly before sipping at her tea.

“Sorry.” Harry bowed his head. “Please continue, Cousin Narcissa.”

“Tell me what you know of betrothal contracts.” Cousin Narcissa instructed.

Harry frowned in concentration. “Well, they’re like an engagement, right? Like, before people get married they’re betrothed?”

Cousin Narcissa cleared her throat again and Harry sighed. There were just so many things to remember! How was he supposed to concentrate on betrothal contracts if he had to concentrate on speaking properly too?

“My apologies.” He apologised carefully before pausing to search for the right words. “I must admit to knowing little about betrothal contracts, Cousin Narcissa. All I know is that they were used a long time ago by muggles to arrange marriages.”

“Indeed.” Cousin Narcissa sipped at her tea. “A betrothal is a promise of marriage bond. A betrothal contract stipulates the conditions of the promise and are magically binding. A proper betrothal contract is arranged by the Lords of the individuals’ Houses.”

“Are there improper betrothal contracts then?” Harry asked curiously as he selected a scone with jam on it.

“Indeed.” Cousin Narcissa sneered gracefully. “There are many families who do not follow the old traditions. Some families have rejected our traditions and instead follow the muggle ways. They are what we refer to as blood traitors.”

Harry winced slightly at the venom in her voice. “You said that they’re magically binding. What does that mean?”

“A betrothal contract is similar to an unbreakable vow.” Cousin Narcissa explained.

“What’s that?” Harry asked before biting into the scone.

“An unbreakable vow is a spell that a witch or wizard can cast to make their vow, or promise, magically reinforced.” Narcissa explained. “If they then break their vow, the spell will kill them.”

Harry almost dropped the half eaten scone he was holding in surprise. “So if someone breaks a betrothal contract they die?”

“That depends on the contract.” Cousin Narcissa explained calmly.

“Is Draco betrothed to anyone?” Harry asked curiously.

Cousin Narcissa frowned disapprovingly. “That is an impolite question.”

“Sorry.” Harry sighed. “Am I allowed to ask if I have a betrothal contract?”

“You are.” Cousin Narcissa allowed. “However, it is not a question I am able to answer. I suspect that you do not, however it is a question you will need to ask Lord Black.”

“Do I get any say in it?” Harry asked. “Can Lord Black make me marry someone that I hate?”

“Yes.”

“That’s awful!” Harry exclaimed.

“Perhaps.” Cousin Narcissa acknowledged. “However, if you were to disown your family the contract would no longer be valid.”

“So when do people make betrothal contracts?” Harry asked as he selected another scone.

“That depends entirely on the families involved.” Cousin Narcissa paused to sip at her tea.

“Traditionally they are signed while the children are infants, however, in recent times many families have been waiting until their children are your age, or older, before agreeing to a contract. Contracts can also be made before the children are born.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “How does that work?”

“I will give you an example.” Cousin Narcissa allowed. “However, I expect your discretion on the matter.”

“Of course.” Harry nodded eagerly, he loved Cousin Narcissa’s examples. They were almost always about people he had heard of.

“In 1951, Lord Sirius Black, who was the current Lord Black’s great grandfather, and Lord Scorpius Malfoy, Lucius’ great grandfather, went into business together.” Narcissa began. “It was a very lucrative arrangement for both Houses, however there was some concern that money would be lost if there was any future conflict between the Houses of Black and Malfoy.

“The two wizards decided that, to ward off any dissention between the families, they would include a betrothal contract between the families. As there were no unbetrothed daughters of the House of Black at the time, since my sister Bellatrix’s contract was signed the day after her birth, the contract they signed stipulated that the next daughter born to the House of Black would be betrothed to Lucius.”

“Wow!” Harry mouthed in shock, she’d never told him a story about her before. “So were you the next girl born?”

Cousin Narcissa’s face tightened for an instant before smoothing out again. “Indeed.”

1-1-1

That night, while Harry lay in bed and tried to focus on something other than the pain radiating from the newly made welts on his back, he tried to decide what he and Draco could do in the muggle world. He knew he had to choose carefully. Whatever they did needed to be something Cousin Narcissa would approve of, as well as being something that would convince Draco that the muggles weren’t awful.

The problem was that he hadn’t really done much in the muggle world himself – whenever the Dursleys went anywhere they left him with Mrs. Figg. He wondered about maybe taking Draco to a theme park – he’d always wanted to go to one – but he wasn’t sure that Cousin Narcissa would approve of it being sufficiently educational. Maybe they could go to a movie, the magical world didn’t have anything like movies and that way Draco would see more of muggle culture. He’d just have to make sure to pick the right one for them to see.

It took Harry a couple of days, but eventually he came up with a plan which Cousin Narcissa signed off on. Draco was horrified at the idea of spending time in the muggle world and glared at Harry for their entire lunch break after Cousin Narcissa told him.

Harry’s next tutoring session was on the 30th of July and Cousin Narcissa had arranged a special lunch for his birthday, complete with his favourite dessert – treacle tarts and ice-cream. After dessert came presents and Harry could hardly believe his eyes when he unwrapped the Nimbus 2001 broom that Lord Malfoy and Cousin Narcissa had given him and the set of practise Quidditch balls from Draco. It was the second time he could remember having being given a birthday present and he couldn’t help the tears that pricked at his eyes.

“Thank you!” He bowed low to all three Malfoys. “I can’t even…just, thank you!”

Cousin Narcissa frowned disapprovingly at his inarticulate response, but didn’t spoil the moment by correcting him.

Before Harry left that day, Draco pulled him aside and quickly handed him a book.

“What’s this?” Harry asked looking at the blank cover of the book curiously.

“It’s on Parselmagic.” Draco whispered. “It’s from our library. I thought you might like to borrow it.”

Harry looked at the book with new excitement. “Wow. Thank you!”

“You’ll need to return it before we go back to school.” Draco told him. “But I don’t think mother or father will notice if it’s missing for a month. It’s not as though they can read it. I’m not certain they even know it’s there.”

“How did you find it?” Harry asked, opening the book reverently.

“I searched for Parselmagic in our catalogue.” Draco replied.

“Catalogue?”

“I’ll show it to you next time.” Draco promised. “You should probably hide the book if you don’t want mother to see it when she takes you back.”

Harry quickly slipped the book into his bag and grinned gratefully at Draco. “Thank you, Draco. It’s brilliant!”

“You are welcome.” Draco nodded. “Happy birthday.”

1-1-1

After having completed his nightly meditation, Harry stayed up reading the book on parselmagic, occasionally reading parts out loud for Sarko and Sativa. It wasn’t a spell book, in fact the only spells mentioned were used as illustrations, instead it discussed the theory of parselmagic and Harry was soon caught up in it. It was the most interesting thing he’d read all summer.

The book said that the ability to speak parseltongue was something called a blood trait. Harry had come across the concept of blood traits the year before when he’d read Takashi’s book on light and dark magic, but Draco’s book went into a lot more detail.

Blood traits were rare expressions of magic that only a few people had. For the most part they were passed down through families, but apparently there had been some cases where a witch or wizard had been born with a blood trait that had never been seen in their family before. It made Harry wonder whether he was a parselmouth because of his family or whether he was one of the people to receive a blood trait randomly.

Harry had been reading the book for three hours when he was eventually forced to put it down when an owl tapped loudly at his window. Glancing at the clock, Harry winced when he realised that it was already midnight. Thankfully Sarko and Sativa had already left to go hunting, he’d discovered that most owls didn’t like his snakes very much.

He let the owl in and blinked in surprise when he saw the long line of owls waiting behind it. Turning his attention to the first owl, Harry relieved it of its burden – a book shaped parcel.

Inside was a book on astronomy and a note,

_‘Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday! I hope you are enjoying your summer. I thought you might enjoy this book, according to my older brother it is very informative._

_Respectfully,_

_Theodore Nott,_

_Ancient and Noble House of Nott’_

Harry stared at book and note in surprise. Sure he and Theo had spent some time together, but only because he was one of Draco’s friends. He’d never expected him to send him a birthday present.

It took Harry over thirty minutes to finish unwrapping all the gifts the owls had sent him. Not only had every single first year Slytherin sent him something, other than Draco who had already given Harry his present, but so had the majority of the first year Ravenclaws, Neville, Takashi, Jeremy, and the Weasley twins. The only person that hadn’t sent him something was Sirius.

In total he had been given ten books, five parcels of sweets, some Zonko products from the Weasley twins, and a tiny tree that, according to Neville, was a Holly Bonsai tree. The tree was, without doubt, Harry’s favourite present, even with the long list of instructions that it came with.

The next morning, when Sarko and Sativa returned from their hunting expedition, Harry showed them the tree and they hissed in laughter at its size.

 _:It’s smaller than us:_ Sativa told him before laughing again when Sarko rested his head on the top of the tree.

Aunt Petunia called for him a few minutes later and Harry spent the rest of the day making sure the Dursley’s house was spotless for Uncle Vernon’s dinner guests.

When Uncle Vernon sent Harry to his room with instructions to make no noise and pretend not to exist, Harry was surprised to see an owl sitting impatiently on his windowsill with a parcel. Surely he’d gotten enough owls the night before? Unless Sirius had sent him something?

Harry pushed down the thought, there was no point getting excited about the idea. Sirius barely knew him. There was no reason why the Lord of the House of Black would sent Harry something for his birthday, even if Harry was his heir.

The owl was in a bad mood and bit Harry hard enough to draw blood when he came close. It took a few minutes, and three of Hedwig’s owl treats, for Harry to convince the bird to let him untie the parcel, after which the owl glared at him one last time before flying away.

Harry watched the owl fly away before turning his attention back to the parcel in front of him. He felt a sudden burst of warmth in his chest when he recognised the handwriting – it was from Sirius. His godfather had sent him something!

Tearing open the parcel, Harry ignored the book in favour for the note.

_‘Dear Harry,_

_I can’t believe you’re twelve already – Happy Birthday!_

_I remember your first birthday party. Your parents were so proud. You’d just said your first word, ‘Mama’, a few days before and James wouldn’t shut up about it. He spent your entire birthday telling us the story to us and trying to convince you to say Dada._

_Anyway, enough of that. I hope you have had a great day and your relatives have spoiled you terribly._

_You remember how I told you in my last letter that your Dad and I were pretty famous at Hogwarts for our pranks? Well, I thought maybe you’d like to carry on the tradition, so I’m giving you our Grimoire. We started it in 5th year, so it doesn’t have all the pranks we pulled, but it definitely has all the best ones._

_Good luck and happy pranking,_

_Sirius’_

Harry read the letter three times, and the part about his parents five times, before eventually setting it aside and turning his attention to the book. The title on the front declared it to be ‘The Marauders’ Grimoire’ and Harry remembered Sirius mentioning something about how their group had been called the Marauders in one of his previous letters.

The book was amazing and the magical theory seemed really advanced. Harry read the first ten pages and couldn’t help but feel inspired. He definitely wanted to try some of the pranks out. He could only imagine the looks on Fred and George’s face if someone else started pranking at Hogwarts.

After a few more minutes, Harry reluctantly put down the book and took out his writing set. He had a lot of thank you notes to write.

1-1-1

“Your thank you note was very nicely done, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa complimented at their next tutoring session. “Your handwriting has certainly improved since the first note you sent me.”

Harry forced himself not to blush as he nodded in agreement. The first time he had sent Cousin Narcissa a note had been to thank her for the Calligraphy book she had sent him – he had rewritten the note twelve times and it had still been barely legible.

“Did you enjoy your birthday?” Cousin Narcissa asked lightly as she poured Harry a cup of tea.

“As much as was possible with the Dursleys.” Harry answered as he took the tea. “I don’t think I have received so many presents in my entire life.”

“Oh?” Cousin Narcissa took her own tea and dropped a sugar lump into it.

“All the first year Slytherins sent me something. I don’t know why, I barely know half of them.” Harry told her. “All the first year Ravenclaws sent me something too, except for Anthony Goldstein.”

“You are a powerful individual, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa explained. “I would have been surprised if your Slytherin classmates hadn’t sent you something. Currying your favour can only benefit them and their houses.”

Harry grimaced, before quickly smoothing out his expression at Cousin Narcissa’s pointed cough. “So they were just trying to suck up?”

Cousin Narcissa coughed again and Harry sighed.

“What I meant to say was, so they were only trying to curry my favour?”

“Perhaps.” Cousin Narcissa sipped at her tea. “Their desire to insinuate themselves into your good graces does not necessarily mean that they do not also count you as a friend. You are the highest ranking individual at Hogwarts, and when, in three years, you become the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter you will be the second highest ranked individual in Magical England. Second only to Lord Black.”

“I think Minister Fudge would disagree.” Harry pointed out with a small smile. “As would many of my schoolmates.”

Cousin Narcissa looked disdainful. “Not the ones that matter.”

“How can someone be the highest ranking individual if most of the people don’t agree?” Harry asked.

Cousin Narcissa leaned back in her chair and crossed her ankles. “While I agree that there are many people who do not respect our nobility as they ought, I would not say that the majority of them would disagree. Even those who do not agree that your birth entitles you to power and influence, none the less admit that you have power and influence regardless.”

“But how?” Harry asked plaintively as he slumped back in his chair. “How do I have power and influence?”

Cousin Narcissa coughed disapprovingly again and Harry sat up and straightened his shoulders.

“As Lord of a Most and Ancient Noble House you will have a seat on the Wizengamot.” Cousin Narcissa explained. “Because your House is Most Ancient and Noble you will have three votes to cast. Ancient and Noble Houses receive two votes, and elected members, ministry officials and Order of Merlin recipients receive one vote.”

Harry nodded, he’d read all that. “But Lord Malfoy has the same number of votes, so why am I going to be more powerful than him?”

“Having a higher ranking than someone does not necessarily automatically grant you more power and influence.” Cousin Narcissa told him.

Harry frowned in confusion. “But you just said…”

“That you would have power and influence, yes.” Cousin Narcissa nodded. “And you will, certainly more so than your school mates, your title alone will grant you that. However, Lucius has been cultivating his power and influence since before you were born.”

“Could I do that?” Harry asked eagerly. “Learn to be like Lord Malfoy?”

“Is that not what we are doing at this moment?” Cousin Narcissa asked him with a small smile.

Harry smiled back. He’d never forgotten his first meeting with Lord Malfoy. The man had seemed so perfect and had even argued with the Headmaster. Harry had decided then that he wanted to be like Draco’s father. Then nobody would dare lock him in a cupboard or whip him with a belt.

“On another matter.” Cousin Narcissa spoke again. “Your and Draconus’ first trip into the muggle world will take place the day after tomorrow. Draconus and I will pick you up at ten and will bring the appropriate muggle currency.”

“Thank you.” Harry grinned nervously. “Will you be accompanying us?”

“I will.”

1-1-1

A.N. I have entered the prequel to this story, 'Harry Potter in the Claw of the Raven', into Inkitt's Fandom Competition and would really appreciate your support and votes. You can find it at: (w*3). inkitt (dot com) (forward-slash)stories(forward-slash)42344

Thank you all for your support!

Bakenandeggs

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented on this story - I really appreciate all your encouragement and feedback.


	3. Chapter 2

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were furious that Harry would be leaving with Cousin Narcissa for something other than their tutoring, but there was nothing they could do to stop him. Harry was pretty sure they were terrified of Cousin Narcissa.

So at five to ten in the morning on August the fourth, Harry was patiently waiting for Cousin Narcissa in the Dursleys’ backyard.

: _Where are you going?:_ Sarko’s voice asked suddenly

Harry looked around trying to figure out where his snake was.

: _Over here:_ Sativa’s voice hissed. : _By the rock:_

 _:Can we come_?: Sarko asked once Harry had found them.

: _No, sorry. I’m going to the muggle world:_ Harry told them sympathetically.

: _You never take us anywhere:_ Sarko sulked.

Harry rolled his eyes. : _I told you that if I bought you I’d have to keep you a secret. That means I can’t take you everywhere:_

 ** _:_** _Ignore him:_ Sativa advised, flicking her mate with her tail. : _We will see you when you return:_

At exactly ten, Cousin Narcissa appeared with a small pop wearing a very expensive looking suit with a skirt. Draco was with her – looking very disgruntled to be wearing a muggle suit.

“Merry meet.” Harry bowed to Cousin Narcissa before nodding in acknowledgement to Draco’s bow.

“Merry meet.” Cousin Narcissa and Draco responded together.

Harry stepped forward and took hold of Cousin Narcissa’s arm, as Draco held onto the other one, and closed his eyes as they apparated away.

He barely stumbled when they landed, a fact that he was very proud of. He’d fallen over the first time Cousin Narcissa had apparated with him.

“Where are we?” Draco asked with distaste as he looked around the alley they had arrived in.

“We are in London.” Cousin Narcissa answered, though she looked equally disgusted by their surroundings.

“Come on.” Harry led them out of the alley and onto the street. “We need to walk for a few minutes to our destination.”

“We’re walking?” Draco asked in horror.

Harry rolled his eyes. “We aren’t walking far. Besides, it’s not as though you don’t walk when you’re in Diagon Alley. I just presumed that you wouldn’t want to get into a car. At least not on our first trip.”

“What’s a car?” Draco asked.

Harry pointed to the cars on the road. “See those? They’re like the carriages at Hogwarts.”

Draco watched the cars for a minute in silence. “Are they pulled by thestrals too?”

“No,” Harry chuckled. “They have motors inside them that make them go. They can go even faster than the Nimbus 2001, but they’re not allowed to.”

Draco kept staring at the cars. “How do they work?”

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted. “It’s really complicated. I could find out if you like?”

Draco’s eyes gleamed in interest for a moment, but then he shook his head and sneered. “Who cares how muggle things work?”

Harry rolled his eyes and decided to ask Cousin Narcissa for permission to find someone to explain it to Draco.

When they arrived at their destination, the corner of Clifford Street and Saville Row, Draco looked around with a sneer.

“What are we doing here?”

“Well, if we’re going to spend some time with muggles, we need to dress like muggles.” Harry told him with a grin.

Draco looked down at his clothes in confusion. “I thought I was dressed like a muggle. Isn’t this what they wear?”

“Well, yes.” Harry admitted. “But I know how important your tailor made clothes are to you. So I thought we could get some muggle clothes tailor made.”

Draco looked surprised. “Muggles have tailors?”

“Of course.” Harry led Draco, and the trailing Cousin Narcissa, down the street to try and find the shop Cousin Narcissa had suggested. Harry had no idea how Cousin Narcissa knew so much about the muggle world.

“But they don’t have magic.” Draco pointed out.

“So?” Harry asked. “How did you think they made their clothes?”

“I don’t know.” Draco admitted. “But tailors are just so civilised. Muggles aren’t civilised!”

Harry ignored him.

2-2-2

The shopping trip was relatively successful. Draco was impressed by the existence of muggle tailors, horrified to realise that the muggle would actually touch him, dismayed by the choice of materials, and unpleasantly astonished that he wouldn’t actually get his new clothes for a few days. Harry was sure the tailor thought they were absolutely bonkers.

After they left the tailor, Cousin Narcissa led them to a restaurant where she had apparently made a booking. A fact that left both Harry and Draco speechless.

Harry ordered one glass of each kind of juice for Draco to try, the other boy was often complaining that he disliked pumpkin juice, and then looked over his menu.

“It’s just like that place in Diagon Alley.” Draco commented as he looked around. “Except for all the muggles of course.”

“I’m going to have the fish.” Harry decided. “What are you going to have Cousin Narcissa?”

“The ostrich.” Cousin Narcissa answered.

“Draco?” Harry questioned.

“The scallops.” Draco decided imperiously.

When the waiter arrived with the ten different glasses of juice, Draco looked at Harry in confusion.

“Come on, try them.” Harry encouraged. “You might find one you like.”

Draco sipped cautiously at the first one and made a face. “What is it?”

“Raspberry juice.” The waiter answered politely. “Are you ready to order?”

After they had ordered, Harry convinced Draco to try another of the juices and then another.

After sipping at the fourth juice, Draco looked up in surprise. “What kind of juice is this?”

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted. “Do you like it?”

“It’s smashing.” Draco admitted. “A big improvement on pumpkin juice.”

“Try the rest.” Harry encouraged. “You might find another one you like.”

2-2-2

After they had eaten, and learnt the names of the two juices Draco had enjoyed – grapefruit and cranberry – Harry introduced the Malfoys to muggle movies. It was also Harry’s first trip to a movie theatre, but he at least had seen a television.

“So what exactly is going to happen?” Draco asked once they had found seats near the back of the theatre.

“It’s called a movie.” Harry told him. “Have you ever been to see a play?”

“Of course.” Draco answered with an obnoxious sneer.

“Well, this is like that.” Harry told him. “Except when the actors did the acting it was recorded and now we’re going to see a recording of it.”

“I believe it will be similar to a pensieve, Draconus.” Cousin Narcissa added.

Harry frowned, did the magical world have movies like this after all? “What’s a pensieve?”

“It is a device used to view memories.” Cousin Narcissa answered as the lights faded out.

“What’s the play about?” Draco asked.

“It’s called Star Wars.” Harry told him. “It came out ages ago, but this theatre still shows it. It’s really famous.”

Draco looked unconvinced by the entire experience right up until when the actual movie started at which point he jumped in surprise and then stared at the screen in fascination.

Harry smirked in satisfaction. He’d known that this was a good idea.

2-2-2

Draco’s first words when the movie had finished were, “Muggles made that?”

Harry nodded seriously. “Yes.”

“But how?” Draco asked with obviously discomfort.

“I don’t know exactly.” Harry admitted.

“How can you not know?”

“Do you know how pensieves were invented?” Harry challenged.

“Well, no, but…”

“Anyway, muggles have also invented smaller version called a television.” Harry interrupted. “Most muggle families have one in their house.”

Draco’s mouth hung open. “They can watch movies in their houses?”

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “It’s pretty great, right?”

“Why don’t we have something like that?” Draco asked his mother suddenly. “If the muggles have them, surely we could have them too?”

“Muggle technology does not respond well to magic.” Cousin Narcissa answered.

Draco looked put out. “But surely someone could invent a magical version!”

Harry smirked to himself. The first day of his ‘convince Draco that muggles aren’t worthless’ plan was a success.

2-2-2

Harry’s Hogwarts letter arrived a week after their trip to the muggle world, and he was disappointed to discover that it didn’t contain his test scores.

When he went to the Malfoys’ the next day for his tutoring session he complained about it to Draco.

“Father owled Dumbledore to complain.” Draco told him. “He asked for my test scores to be owled to me before school starts.”

“Do you think I could ask him to send me my results too?” Harry asked.

“I don’t see why not.” Draco nodded. “If you have any trouble, let father know. He’ll sort everything out.”

“Did you see all those books that we have to buy?” Harry asked.

Draco frowned. “I know. Father says it’s because our new DADA professor is a wizard named Gilderoy Lockhart and he assigned us all of his own books.”

Harry grimaced, that sounded silly. “When are you going to Diagon Alley?”

“Not until next week.” Draco groaned. “Mother said she was going to invite you to join us.”

Harry smiled at that. He’d been wondering how he would get to buy his school stuff. “Brilliant.”

2-2-2

Their second trip to the muggle world was two days later and when Cousin Narcissa and Draco picked him up, Harry noticed that Draco looked less horrified at the idea than he had the first time. Draco was even wearing some of the clothes that they had ordered at the tailors. Harry thought it was a good sign.

Harry’s plan for Draco’s second day in the involved a trip to the Royal Observatory. Astronomy was one of their core courses at Hogwarts and Harry thought Draco would enjoy seeing the planets up so close.

Draco, dressed in his new tailored muggle clothes, reacted to the Observatory in much the same way he had to the movie – astonishment that muggles had created something so amazing and shock that the wizards hadn’t managed to do it to.

After the Observatory, they went out for lunch again, and then, much to Draco’s audible delight, went to see the second Star Wars movie. Harry had to admit that he was excited to see the movie too.

2-2-2

Cousin Narcissa did ask Harry to join them on their trip to Diagon Alley the next week. And after she had picked Harry up from the Dursleys’ she apparated him back to Malfoy Manor so that they could floo. Harry was proud that, thanks to the hours he’d spent practising under Cousin Narcissa’s watchful eye, he barely even stumbled when exiting the floo.

Their first stop was Madame Malkin’s for robes and then Lord Malfoy and Draco went to run an errand while Cousin Narcissa and Harry went to the Potions shop to buy the equipment and ingredients that second years required.

They all met up again at Flourish and Blotts where their new Defence Professor was holding a book signing.

“That’s who’s going to be teaching us?” Draco asked with a sneer. “Father, how could you let this happen?”

“Dumbledore was insistent and the majority of the other School Governors are his lackeys.” Lord Malfoy replied with an answering sneer.

“We will get the required books and then leave.” Cousin Narcissa told them. “Preferably before he begins giving speeches.”

Harry was given the task of find their Transfiguration textbook and grinned when he saw Fred and George standing near the shelf.

“Merry meet.” He greeted them with a smile.

“Harry!” They chorused happily. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Thanks again for the Zonkos stuff.” Harry told them. “Everything looks brilliant!”

“Just use them well.” One of the twins told him.

“Prank the Slytherins for us.” The other added

“Are you looking forward to Hogwarts?”

“Or dreading the end of your holidays?”

“A bit of both.” Harry answered, surprised by his own answer. He hadn’t considered how much he would miss Cousin Narcissa and her tutoring session when he went back. “Mostly looking forward to it though.”

“Fred? George?” A voice called from a few aisles away.

The twins winced. “That’s our mum. See ya, Harry.”

“Merry part.”

Harry found the required textbooks easily and took them back to where they had all agreed to meet, just in time to see a redheaded man throw a punch at Lord Malfoy who responded with a full-body tackle.

At which point a group of redheaded people, including Fred and George, began shouting a mixture of protests and encouragements.

The two wizards were still fighting when Draco came back, their Potions textbooks in his hands.

“What…” Draco trailed off, staring at his father with both confusion and horror.

Eventually Hagrid came along and pulled the two men apart, just as Cousin Narcissa returned with a basket containing their many Defence textbooks.

Lord Malfoy shook the dust of his robes and dropped the book he had picked up off the ground into the littlest Weasley’s cauldron before making a mean comment and then sweeping out of the bookstore with Draco.

Harry turned to look at Cousin Narcissa in confusion.

“Come along, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa said briskly. “Do we have all the books you need?”

“We still need Charms, Astronomy and History of Magic.” Harry told her.

“I will find your Astromony and History textbooks, you get the Charms ones.” Cousin Narcissa instructed. “I will meet you at the counter.”

Finding the textbooks was a painless exercise, and within minutes they were leaving the bookshop – the new books shrunken down and in Cousin Narcissa’s pocket.

Cousin Narcissa led Harry back to the floos and offered him her bag of floo-powder. “Lucius and Draco will be waiting for us at the Manor.”

Draco was waiting for them in the Floo Room at Malfoy Manor looking just as confused as Harry felt.

“Father’s in his office.” Draco told his mother the moment she came through. “What happened? Why would father fight like a muggle? And in public?”

“I am sure your father had his reasons.” Cousin Narcissa told Draco calmly. “I will go see him. You boys may go flying if you desire.”

Draco watched his mother leave the room and then turned to Harry. “Well that was weird.”

“Yeah.” Harry agreed vehemently. “I knew your family and the Weasleys didn’t get on, but I didn’t know it was that bad.”

Draco frowned. “It’s not normally. We hate them, sure, but I’ve never seen father do anything more than insult them.”

“Mr. Weasley started it.” Harry told his friend. “I think your father was insulting him or something and Mr. Weasley just attacked him.”

Draco’s frown lessened. “Well, that makes more sense. But why didn’t father just curse him?”

Harry thought that was a very good question.

2-2-2

Narcissa entered her husband’s office with a disapproving frown. “Well done, husband. I don’t think Draconus has been more shocked and horrified in his life.”

Lucius was sitting back in his chair with a glass of fire whiskey in his hand. “It was necessary.”

Narcissa moved forward and placed a hand on her husband’s chin, lifting his head up so she could see the black eye that was forming.

“Does Amelia have no care for our reputation?”

Lucius waited until she released his chin before gently guiding her onto his lap. “It was my idea.”

Narcissa leant against him. “Surely there was an easier way to pass the diary to the Ministry?”

“I needed a believable story for the Dark Lord.” Lucius told her, resting his chin on her shoulder.

Narcissa stiffened involuntarily at the mention of the Dark Lord who, with the approval of Lucius’ father, had enslaved her husband against his will. When the Dark Lord had disappeared she had hoped that her husband’s career as a Ministry spy was over, but Lucius had never truly believed that the Dark Lord was gone. And now it seemed as though her husband had been right.

 “Have you heard anything?”

Lucius sighed. “No, nobody knows anything aside from the fact that our mark is growing darker.”

“So we wait.” Narcissa commented evenly, despite the ball of dread forming in her stomach.

“Perhaps the diary will help.” Lucius said after a minute. “It is unlike the Dark Lord to be so attached to so mundane an object.”

“Perhaps.”

2-2-2

Their third, and final, trip to the muggle world was set for the twenty second of August and Harry was even more nervous about it than he had been about their first trip. He’d scratched his original plan for the trip and, with Cousin Narcissa’s help, arranged for them to spend the day at a race track.

Harry hadn’t forgot Draco’s reaction to seeing muggle cars and wanted Draco to not only have a chance to ride in one, but also to ask someone questions about how things worked.

Harry was anxious about it for days, right up until he saw Draco’s expression when he saw the cars racing around the track. His cousin quickly hid his excitement under an expressionless mask, but Harry knew what he had seen and it was enough to chase away any anxiety he had.

“So what are we doing here?” Draco asked as he watched the cars race around the track.

“Well, first we’re going to ride in one of the cars.” Harry grinned. “And then someone is going to explain to us how they work.”

“Really?” Draco’s excitement broke through his calm front again.

Cousin Narcissa disappeared, only to return a few minutes later with a man following behind her.

“Draconus, Harry, this is Mr. Salmons.”

“Call me Ben.” The man told them with a grin.

“Mr. Salmons is going to show you around.” Cousin Narcissa told them. “If you need me, I will be in the cafe.”

Harry and Draco followed Ben down the race track and listened carefully to all his safety instructions before climbing into the back of one of the cars.

“You alright?” Harry asked Draco as he helped the other boy buckle his seat belt.

“Of course.” Draco answered quickly, though Harry could see that the other boy was looking very pale.

“Alrighty.” Ben climbed into the driver’s seat and twisted around to look at them. “You boys ready?”

By the time Ben had driven them around the track once, Harry had decided that it was one of the coolest experiences of his life. It was a lot like flying, but at the same time barely comparable.

Harry glanced over at Draco and saw that his cousin looked just as thrilled as he felt.

When the car ride was over, Draco’s face was flushed with excitement. “That was absolutely smashing!”

Harry laughed. “Yeah, it was.”

Ben laughed too as he unbuckled his seatbelt. “I‘m glad you boys enjoyed it. Let’s go see Kevin and he can tell you all the hows and whys.”

If Harry was honest, he personally found Kevin’s explanation about how cars worked terribly boring – something he planned on telling Terry next time the boy teased him about being interested in everything – but Draco seemed fascinated by it all and asked Kevin a multitude of questions.

Kevin seemed both delighted to have such an avid pupil and confused at some of the basic knowledge that Draco seemed to lack – what kind of twelve year old brit hadn’t heard of petrol?

By the time Draco had run out of questions to ask, it was lunchtime and the boys found their way upstairs to the café where Cousin Narcissa was waiting.

“How was it?” She asked them with a small smile.

“Smashing!” Draco exclaimed before exuberantly telling her every little detail of their morning.

Harry listened smugly – Draco was never going to be able to honestly tell him that muggles were useless and uncivilised again.

2-2-2

They watched the third Star Wars movie after lunch and when they eventually returned to Malfoy Manor for afternoon tea, Draco asked his mother the question that Harry had been wanting to ask ever since their first visit to the muggle world.

“Mother? How do you know so much about the muggle world?”

Cousin Narcissa looked uncomfortable for a second, but then her discomfort was gone and Harry wondered whether or not he had imagined it.

“I know a woman who married a muggleborn wizard.” Cousin Narcissa told them. “When your father and I decided that I would accompany you to the muggle world, I asked her for advice.”

Harry stared at her in wonder. He could hardly believe she’d gone to all that trouble for his plan. “Thank you!”

Cousin Narcissa smiled gently. “You are welcome, Harry.

2-2-2

The day before he was due to return to Hogwarts, Harry found an owl waiting for him in his room. He unrolled the parchment the owl and brought him and grinned when he saw Professor Flitwick’s name on it. He’d all but given up hoping that his Head of House would send him his exam results. Professor Flitwick’s note congratulated him on his exam results and declared him ‘a credit to the Ravenclaw House’.

Harry could feel his heart pounding in excitement as he finished Flitwick’s note and started to read his results. The first thing he noticed was that the results were in the form of percentages instead of grades. The second thing he noticed was that he had gotten ninety two percent on his Astrology exam.

Which was great! Except now Harry wanted to know which questions he had gotten wrong.

The results went on: Charms, ninety seven percent; DADA, ninety eight percent; Herbology eighty five percent; History, one hundred percent; Magical Theory; one hundred percent, Potions, ninety five percent; and Transfiguration, ninety eight percent.

Overall, Harry had to admit that his results were good. Except for his Herbology result that was. Harry grimaced at it and sighed. The problem that he just didn’t find Herbology very interesting and, while he would never tell Neville this, it just didn’t seem like real magic to him. But regardless, eighty five percent was definitely not good enough and Harry determined to spend extra time studying for that class in the coming year.

2-2-2


	4. Chapter 3

The Malfoys picked Harry up from his relatives’ house on September the first before apparating him to Kings Cross Station. Harry couldn’t help but be amused when Sarko and Sativa hissed protests from his pocket – apparently apparating wasn’t something that snakes enjoyed.

They got there in good time, arriving fifteen minutes before the train was due to leave, and so Draco and Harry easily found an empty compartment.

“I was thinking that I’d sit with the Ravenclaws.” Harry admitted to Draco when his cousin had stowed his trunk under the seat.

Draco sneered. “Why?”

“Because they’re my friends.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ve seen you heaps this summer and I haven’t seen them at all.”

“Fine.” Draco sat back regally. “If you get tired of them, you know where to find me.”

It took Harry ages to find his dorm mates since they had chosen a compartment on the opposite end of the train. They were all there when Harry arrived, even Anthony to his internal annoyance.

“Harry!” Terry jumped up from his seat with a grin when Harry popped his head into the compartment and bowed over his hands. “Good to see you.”

Michael bowed too, while Anthony sneered at him and Rodney watched silently.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded to his friends and stowed his trunk under the seat. “How were your summers?”

“Alright.” Terry flopped back onto the seat. “I played Quidditch a lot. Rodney invited me over a few times to play with him and his sister which was brilliant. She’s really good.”

Rodney grimaced. “I’m glad you enjoyed it. I was just happy she had someone else to focus her attention on. She made me practise with her every day! Even when it was raining!”

Harry chuckled as he sat down beside Terry. “Yeah, I played some Quidditch too. Draco is planning on trying out for Slytherin, I thought I might try out for our team too.”

“Really?” Anthony sneered at him. “Wouldn’t that get in the way of all your compulsive studying?”

“I’m sure I’ll find time enough to do both.” Harry answered airily as Cousin Narcissa had taught him to do when someone was being rude. “You probably shouldn’t try out for the team though, Anthony, you hardly found time enough to study last year as it was.”

“Oooh!” Terry laughed. “Looks like Harry grew some stones over the summer.”

Harry ignored Anthony’s angry expression and fought to keep his expression smooth as he turned to Michael. “What did you do this summer?”

“We went to Belgium.” Michael answered. “It was great. They have entire shops just for chocolate.”

“Did you bring us some?” Terry asked his friend seriously.

“Of course!” Michael rolled his eyes at his friend. “I’ll share it out tonight. I brought back some hot chocolate too. It’s amazing! Harry, do you think you could source us some hot water and goblets?”

Harry nodded. “Sure. I won’t even need to talk to the house elves. We can just transfigure something into goblets, fill them with the Aguamenti charm and then use a heating charm.”

The other four boys stared at him.

“You can do that?” Terry asked after a few seconds of silence.

“We can all transfigure something into a goblet, we did that last year.” Harry answered. “And we’re learning the heating charm this year, so I’m sure we can figure it out.”

“And the Aguamenti charm?” Rodney asked. “I don’t think my sister has even learnt that yet.”

“Takashi taught it to me last year.” Harry admitted. “We use it when we get thirsty when we’re running. It’s either that or drink out of the lake.”

“That’s brilliant!” Terry exclaimed. “You should teach us.”

“Now?” Harry asked, looking around at the carpeted floor.

“Er, maybe not.” Terry acknowledged. “But definitely at some point.”

Harry smirked. “You could always come running with us in the morning?”

“No way!” Terry made a face.

“Merry meet.” Neville opened the compartment door and bowed looking uncertain.

“Merry meet!” Harry greeted him with a smile as Terry and Michael stood up and bowed. “Come sit down.”

“Shove over, Anthony.” Rodney instructed as he shifted to make room for Neville.

“How was your summer?” Harry asked.

“It was great.” Neville answered with a shy smile. “Gran gave me my own greenhouse.”

“A greenhouse?” Michael repeated. “Why?”

“He’s a genius at herbology, remember?” Terry told his friend. “What kinds of plants do you have?”

“Gran won’t let me have any dangerous ones yet.” Neville answered with a sigh. “But I do have a Poltrine Bush.”

Harry stared blankly at his friend. “What’s that?”

“It’s quite rare.” Neville said with pride. “Its flowers are really useful in potions, but expensive because they’re hard to grow. Gran gave me some money and said that was all the money she was going to spend on plants, so I figured that if I bought a Poltrine Bush I could sell the flowers and use that money to buy new plants.”

Harry was impressed. “That sounds great.”

“What if it dies though?” Terry asked. “Who’s going to look after it while you’re at Hogwarts?”

“That’s why I picked the Poltrine Bush.” Neville explained. “It hibernates most of the year, only coming out in July and August.”

“That’s pretty cool.” Terry grinned. “Maybe I should get one.”

“You have to look after it for about six hours a day.” Neville told with a quiet chuckle.

“What?” Terry gaped. “Seriously? Why would any want to spend that much time on a plant?”

“I imagine your reaction is the reason they’re so rare.” Harry laughed. “How do they survive in the wild, Neville?”

“They don’t grow in the wild.” Neville explained. “The first Poltrine bush was made in 1932 by a herbologist named Astroy Poltrine. He took three naturally grown plants and grafted them together.”

“I didn’t know you could do that.” Rodney commented.

“We won’t start learning about it until our sixth year.” Neville told them.

“Enough about plants.” Anthony said suddenly. “Who wants to play a game?”

“How about exploding snap?” Michael suggested.

“Alright.” Harry agreed with a grin.

3-3-3

Being second years, Harry and his friends rode up to the castle in the carriages. Harry was strongly reminded of his and Draco’s experience in the muggle car. He wondered if his cousin was feeling the same way.

“How’s the Bonsai Tree, Harry?” Neville asked quietly as the castle came into view.

“It’s good, I think.” Harry answered. “I’ve been following all the instructions. It’s really relaxing, reminds me a lot of meditating.”

“Yeah,” Neville smiled shyly. “It’s how I do my meditating.”

“Thanks.” Harry grinned. “Did you know my wand was made of holly? Or was it just a coincidence?”

“I knew.” Neville told him. “I told Ollivander what I was doing and asked him what kind of wood your wand was made of.”

“And he just told you?” Harry asked, a little disturbed by the knowledge that Ollivander was just giving way that sort of information.

Neville frowned. “You don’t mind that I asked, do you? I’m sorry, it’s just that it’s really important that your bonsai tree matches your wand wood.”

“I don’t mind that you asked.” Harry reassured him. “But I don’t like the idea that anyone could find out what kind of wand I have.”

“I don’t think he would have given it to me if he thought I was going to misuse it.” Neville said quickly. “He’s really great. My gran was with me and he gave her this big lecture about the fact that I had been using my Dad’s wand. Gran wasn’t very happy, but she let me get a new wand.”

“That’s brilliant!” Harry exclaimed happily. “I didn’t even know you had your Dad’s wand. Are you looking forward to trying out your new one?”

“Definitely!” Neville nodded. “Ollivander said that Dad’s wand barely worked for me at all. He thinks maybe I could learn some wandless magic one day.”

“That’s smashing.” Harry told him, trying out a word he’d heard Draco use a lot. “I’m going to be trying to learn some this year. We could maybe learn together?”

“Really?” Neville beamed at him.

“Of course.” Harry promised. “I just have to get permission from Professor Snape first, but he said I would probably be able to start after the holidays.”

3-3-3

The Welcome Feast was just as wonderful as it had been in Harry’s first year. The first years looked so small and scared and Harry found it hard to believe that that had been him the year before.

After dinner, Harry made his way down to Professor Snape’s office and knocked beside the portrait that guarded it.

The portrait swung open and Professor Snape frowned at him before bowing. “What are you doing here, Potter?”

Harry nodded politely. “It’s seven thirty, Professor.”

“It’s your first night back.” Snape glared at him. “Surely you do not want a meditation lesson this evening.”

“Only if you’re willing, sir.” Harry replied evenly.

Snape glared at him for a few more seconds before stepping back. “Come in then.”

“Thank you, sir.” Harry smiled gratefully and followed his Professor into the room. He looked around and realised that it looked exactly the same as it had the year before, there were even piles of paperwork on Professor Snape’s desk despite classes not yet starting.

Professor Snape sat down in his usual chair and gestured for Harry to sit as well. “You have been practising over the summer, I presume?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded seriously. “Every evening.”

“And you haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary?” Snape asked sternly. “Your relatives didn’t report seeing you displaying any luminous qualities?”

“Not that I know of, sir.” Harry answered. “But I always meditated in private. My relatives wouldn’t have seen me if I started glowing.”

“I see.”

Harry suddenly remembered Neville’s comment about meditating with a bonsai tree. “Sir?”

Snape nodded for him to continue.

“Neville Longbottom gave me a bonsai tree for my birthday and I’ve been looking after it. When I told Neville that if felt a bit like meditating, he said that it’s how does all his meditating.”

“Yes, bonsai trees can be used for meditation.” Professor Snape agreed. “I doubt that you would achieve the same results from your bonsai tree as you do through your usual meditation, however it will certainly not damage your progress.”

“Good.” Harry smiled. “I really like the little thing.”

“Get into position.” Professor Snape ordered. “I have other things to do this evening.”

Harry slipped off his chair and sat cross legged on the floor. “Should I just meditate like normal, sir?”

“Yes.” Professor Snape nodded. “I will supervise you for an hour, then you will return to your dorm room.”

Harry closed his eyes and began his breathing, instantly feeling more relaxed.

Meditating didn’t give him the amazing feel it had when he’d first communicated with his magic. It hadn’t felt like that ever since Professor Snape had taught him how to control it, but it was still an enjoyable process.

He had gotten good at judging the passing of time while he was meditating and so, and hour after starting, pulled himself back to reality and opened his eyes.

“Did I glow, sir?” He asked Snape curiously.

Professor Snape looked up from the book he was reading. “No, Potter.”

Harry nodded in satisfaction. “Great. Does that mean I can start learning wandless magic?”

“You can try.” Professor Snape answered sceptically.

“What about occlumency?”

Professor Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry. “You wish to learn occlumency?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered. “I know I won’t be able to get far without someone practising legilimency on me, but I thought I could at least make a start.”

Snape observed him silently for so long that Harry had to force himself not to squirm uncomfortably.

“There is another method to learning occlumency.” Snape said eventually. “I shall lend you a book. You are not to share it with any of your classmates.”

Harry leaned forward in excitement. “Really, sir? That would be smashing!”

Professor Snape stood up and moved to a locked wooden cabinet. Harry looked away politely as his Professor opened the cabinet and retrieved a book.

“Here.” Snape held the book out to him.

Harry quickly stood and accepted the book. “Thank you, sir. I won’t show it to anyone.”

“You are welcome, Mr. Potter.” Snape replied.

“Same time tomorrow, Professor?” Harry asked.

“I believe not.” Snape denied. “You seem to have gained an adequate level of control over your meditation and therefore no longer are in need of my supervision.”

“Oh.” Harry couldn’t help but feel sad. “Thank you for all your help, sir.”

Snape nodded silently before moving to the door and holding it open. “Merry part, Mr. Potter.”

“Merry part, Professor.”

3-3-3

Harry didn’t remember the Common Room being quite this busy on the first night of the previous year, but then he had to admit that he had been focussing on other things.

Looking around for his friends, Harry noted a lot of familiar faces were missing before remember that they had graduated the year before.

“Harry!” Jeremy, who was now a fifth year, waved Harry over.

“Merry meet.” Takashi bowed to Harry.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded as he sat down in a nearby chair. “How are you both? Is that a prefect badge I see, Takashi?”

“We’re great!” Jeremy grinned.

Takashi nodded in agreement. “Yes. How are you, Harry?”

“Wow, congrats!” Harry replied. “I’m good. I can’t believe how little the first years are. Was I really that small last year?”

“You were smaller.” Jeremy told him with a laugh. “You were a skinny little thing.”

“Imagine how small they’ll look when you’re our age.” Takashi told him. “Or when you’re a seventh year.”

Harry grinned. “I can’t imagine them being any smaller than they are now.”

“I know the feeling.” Jeremy nodded. “It makes it easier to understand why first years aren’t allowed to play Quidditch. I remember that as a first year I thought it was terribly unfair and now I wonder why you second years are allowed to play. You’re just so little and breakable.”

Harry grimaced. “I’m not that little!”

Jeremy stood up. “Really? Stand up.”

Harry stood up and grimaced when he realised that he didn’t even come up to Jeremy’s shoulder. “I thought I’d grown!”

“You have.” Takashi reassured him with an amused smirk. “But so has Jeremy. You have to remember that he is one of the tallest wizards in our year.”

Harry sat down again. “So you don’t think second years should play Quidditch?”

Jeremy flopped back in to his chair. “I didn’t say that. I just think that you’re more likely to get hurt.” He leaned forward with a grin. “Are you thinking of trying out?”

“Yeah.” Harry rubbed a hand through his hair nervously, ignoring Aunt Narcissa’s scolding voice in his head. “Draco’s planning on trying out for the Slytherin team and we practised together a lot over the summer.”

Jeremy grimaced, as he always did when Harry mentioned his cousin. “Well, from the few times I’ve seen you fly, I think you’d have a chance. What position do you want to try out for?”

“Not beater.” Harry said firmly. “I know that the team will be looking for a new seeker, so maybe that.”

“You should consider chaser as well.” Jeremy told him. “Fancourt graduated last year, so we’ll be looking for a new one of them as well.”

“I think Terry wants to try out for chaser.” Harry answered. “But I’ll see how I go. Do you know who’s captain this year?”

Jeremy’s chest puffed up in pride. “Me.”

“Wow!” Harry grinned. “That’s smashing. Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Jeremy grinned back. “I’m planning on holding the try outs in a few weeks, I’ll keep you updated.”

“Thanks.” Harry stood up. “I should go find Terry and the rest. Michael brought us back some chocolate from Belgium and we’re all going to try it together.”

“Belgian chocolate?” Jeremy asked with wide eyes. “I’ve heard it’s amazing.”

Harry grinned cheekily. “I’ll let you know.”

Harry’s dorm mates were in their dorm room, playing a rowdy game of gobstones.

“Finally!” Terry exclaimed when he saw Harry. “We’ve been waiting for ages! Where were you?”

“I had a meeting with Professor Snape.” Harry answered. “And then I saw Takashi and Jeremy in the Common Room. Jeremy’s been made Quidditch Captain this year.”

“Really?” Terry stood up and dusted off his knees. “That’s great. I’ve heard he’s absolutely brilliant at strategy.”

“At least he’s not a hard-arse like Fancourt was.” Michael laughed. “I heard she made the Quidditch team run around the lake one time.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t make her a hard-arse. Takashi and I did that every morning for half the year.”

Terry, Michael and Rodney all laughed.

“Harry,” Terry told him. “You and Takashi are totally hard-arses. I bloody hope that you or Takashi never get made Quidditch Captain, you’d be worse than Fancourt ever was.”

Harry shrugged. “Well, Takashi won’t be Quidditch Captain – he’s the same year as Jeremy.”

“Chocolate time!” Terry shouted suddenly.

Michael rolled his eyes fondly. “After the game, idiot. Take your turn already!”

“Right.” Terry knelt back down on the floor and took aim with his gobstone.

“I’m going to look up the heating charm.” Harry told them, opening his trunk and taking out his Charms Textbook.

Once he’d found the right page, Harry transfigured the fork he had nicked from the great hall into a goblet before casting the Aguamenti charm to fill it.

“Woah!” Rodney commented. “That’s awesome! You really have to teach us how to do that.”

“I will.” Harry promised, before reading what his textbook said about heating charms. “Do you guys want to learn this too?”

“Nah.” Terry answered. “It takes us way longer to learn new spells. I want my hot chocolate.”

“How are you even a Ravenclaw?” Michael asked with an audible grin. “Choosing chocolate over knowledge.”

“You only say that because you’ve already tried the chocolate.” Rodney commented.

It took Harry over ten tries before he managed to cast the heating charm properly and then another few minutes before he managed to cast it consistently. By that time Rodney had won the gobstone game, if the boy’s loud exclamations were anything to go by, and the four boys were watching Harry’s progress curiously.

“How does he even do that?” Rodney whispered.

“I can hear you, you know.” Harry answered dryly. “So, did you guys grab cutlery at dinner like I suggested?”

Terry pulled out a knife with a proud grin.

“You chose a knife?” Anthony asked as he pulled out a spoon. “A spoon is more like a goblet.”

“I chose a knife too.” Michael commented.

“Isn’t this stealing?” Rodney asked, holding his fork gingerly.

“It’s borrowing.” Harry corrected. “We’ll turn them back afterwards and return them at breakfast. The elves won’t mind.”

The four boys took out their wands and all transfigured their borrowed utensils into goblets which they then held out for Harry to magically fill.

“Alright.” Michael went to his trunk and pulled out a little box. He opened it to reveal five weird chocolate lollypop like things. “Once Harry has charmed the water hot, we each take one of these and stir it in the hot water. The chocolate will melt and mix with the water making hot chocolate.”

“That’s so weird.” Anthony said with a sneer.

Michael rolled his eyes. “Then don’t worry about it and I’ll drink your one too.”

Anthony ignored him and held his goblet out for Harry to cast the heating charm.

“You might want to put it down.” Harry said. “My charm seems to heat both the goblet and the water, I haven’t figured out how to just heat the water yet.”

Anthony sneered at him as he set the goblet down. “Not so smart now, are you?”

“Shut up.” Terry told him. “It’s not like you could do any better.”

Harry carefully heated each of the other boys’ goblets, before reheating his own. Then he picked up the last hot chocolate stick and stuck it in his water. It took a few minutes for the chocolate to melt, but when Harry took his first sip he decided that it was definitely worth it. It was hands down the best hot chocolate he had ever had.

“This is amazing!” Terry exclaimed loudly. “Why don’t we have these in England?”

“Can you buy them by owl?” Harry asked curiously. “Because I would totally be willing to pay the shipping charges for these.”

Michael’s eyes widened in interest. “I didn’t think of that. That would be brilliant!”

“Do you remember the name of the shop you bought them from?” Rodney asked. “Because we should definitely owl them and ask.”

“We could start a business!” Terry suggested. “We could sell hot chocolates in the evening.”

Harry laughed as he took another sip of the amazing hot chocolate. “I’m more concerned about buying it for myself.”

“Of course you are.” Anthony said snidely. “Any money you’d make would be a pittance for you.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because your family is so poor. Come on, Anthony, your family’s mansion is almost as big as the Malfoys’.”

Anthony just sneered.

3-3-3

A.N. I have entered the prequel to this story, 'Harry Potter in the Claw of the Raven', into Inkitt's Fandom Competition and would really appreciate your support and votes. You can find it at: (w*3). inkitt (dot com) (forward-slash)stories(forward-slash)42344

Thank you all for your support!

Bakenandeggs


	5. Chapter Four

Their first morning back at Hogwarts, Harry and Takashi met for their habitual run around the lake. It was the first opportunity Harry had had to go for a run since the last term, and by the end of it he was red and puffing. Takashi laughed at him.

They showered in the Quidditch locker rooms and then made their way to the Great Hall for breakfast where they split up to eat with their different groups of the friends.

“Nice run?” Terry asked as Harry slid onto the bench beside him.

“I’ve gotten really unfit.” Harry confessed. “I couldn’t exercise much over the summer and now I only just managed to make it around the lake.”

“That’s not unfit.” Rodney snorted. “In fact I would still describe that as ridiculously fit behaviour.”

“What’s with the little tree on your desk?” Michael asked curiously.

“It’s a bonsai tree.” Harry told them. “Neville gave it to me for my birthday.”

“It’s really cute.” Rodney commented. “How does it stay that little?”

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted.

“What?” Terry gasped. “You mean that you don’t know everything?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Herbology is more Neville’s area of expertise.”

“It seems useless to me.” Anthony grumbled.

“Herbology or the bonsai tree?” Harry asked curiously.

“Both.”

“Don’t let Professor Sprout hear you say that.” Rodney commented.

“Or Professor Snape for that matter.” Harry added. “We’ve got him first.”

“Obviously.” Anthony sneered.

They had Potions with the Slytherins, but Harry didn’t partner with Draco because he knew his Ravenclaw classmates depended on having him alternating as their partners.

Professor Snape had them make a Shrinking Solution, which included crushing puffer-fish eyes to a medium-fine powder. It was exciting, because their first year recipes had never defined the fineness of the powder.

At the end of the class only three pairs had managed to not completely screw up their potion, Harry and Michael, Draco and Theodore, and Daphne and Blaise.

When they had handed in their potions, Professor Snape announced that each professor would be posting a list of the class rankings and their Heads of House would be posting their overall ranking in their Common Rooms.

When Professor Snape dismissed their class, most of the Ravenclaws rushed for the wall where the class ranking was hanging. Harry and the Slytherins packed their supplies back in their bags patiently.

Terry pushed his way to the front and then came back to report to Harry. “You’re first and I’m sixth.”

Harry beamed happily. “Really? Smashing!”

Terry rolled his eyes. “You sound like a bloody ponce when you say that.”

Harry ignored him. “Where did Draco come?”

“Second.” Draco answered for himself, moving to stand next to Harry.

“Congrats.” Harry told him, standing up and slinging his bag over his shoulder.

“Likewise.” Draco told him.

By the end of the day, Harry knew that he was at the top of Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, History and Magical Theory. The only classes he didn’t know about were DADA and Herbology, and that was because neither he nor Draco had had those classes.

Anthony had been glaring at Harry since Potions, and the glare had increased in intensity each class. Granger, from Gryffindor, had also been glaring at Harry since their Transfiguration class – Harry figured she wasn’t used to not being the best.

Flitwick posted the overall list on the noticeboard after dinner, but the upperclassmen crowded it and so it was half an hour before any of the second years managed to get a look.

Terry, who had been their designated checker, came back and reported that Harry was the top of their year. Apparently, Malfoy was second and Granger was third.

“I feel as though I should be embarrassed that only one of us made it into the top three.” Michael, who had been ranked eighth, commented. “We are Ravenclaws.”

“That doesn’t make us smarter than anyone else.” Harry pointed out.

“Just more interested in doing homework and researching for assignments.” Terry retorted.

“Not necessarily.” Harry argued. “I doubt you do anymore studying than Granger. I have never been to library when she hasn’t been there.”

4-4-4

They had Herbology first the next day. The class was interesting, and Harry managed to earn ten points for Ravenclaw by answering two questions correctly.

At the end of the class there was the usual mad rush to see the class rankings, which Harry and the Slytherins ignored.

“Seriously?” Anthony’s voice sounded loudly in the greenhouse. “Longbottom came first? But he’s an idiot!”

“Ten points from Ravenclaw.” Professor Sprout snapped from where she was packing up the parchments she had used during the class.

Terry had pushed his way to the front of the crowd, but then pushed his way back to Harry. “You’re fourth, Harry. I’m eighth, Granger from Gryffindor is third, Michael is eleventh, Rodney is fifteenth and Anthony is thirteenth. I can’t remember what the girls were.”

“We were all in the top twenty.” Padma commented. “I was fifth.”

“Did you see what Draco’s rank was?” Harry asked curiously.

Terry shrugged uncomfortably. “No.”

Harry sighed. “So who was second?”

“Greengrass.” Padma answered with an amused smile. “Which you’d expect, you know, with her name being ‘green grass’.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Very witty, Padma.”

“Yes, thank you for that, Patil.” Daphne said crisply as she came to stand next to Draco. “Draco, you’re sixth.”

“Thank you.” Draco nodded stiffly. “Congratulations on coming second.”

“Thank you.” Daphne curtsied slightly.

“What do you have next?” Harry asked his cousin as they stood up.

“DADA.” Draco answered.

“Oh, same as us.” Harry smiled.

“Are you disappointed about getting fourth?” Draco asked him as they, and the other Slytherins, walked towards DADA.

“A little.” Harry admitted. “But not surprised. Neville deserved to be first, and Daphne deserved to be second. I’m a little frustrated that Granger beat me, but that’s mostly because she’s spent the last twenty four hours glaring at me.”

“So Lockhart.” Theodore said as the DADA classroom came into sight. “How awful to you think it will be?”

“Dreadful!” Draco answered with feeling.

“Quite.” Daphne agreed. “Did you hear about the Gryffindor and Hufflepuffs first class with him?”

“Cornish Pixies.” Draco snorted disdainfully. “Ridiculous!”

Lockhart wasn’t in the classroom when they arrived, though he appeared a few minutes later with his weirdly perfect smile.

“Welcome, welcome!” He greeted them chirpily before beginning an obnoxiously speech about all the awards he had won. Then he handed them each a test to complete.

“Is this a joke?” Draco hissed at Harry, holding the parchment between his finger and thumb in obvious disgust. “Why in Merlin’s name would I care what his favourite colour is?”

Harry grimaced, feeling embarrassed that he knew the answer. “Lilac. It’s in Year with the Yeti.”

Draco sneered at him, but dipped his quill in ink and wrote that down.

By the end of the test, which consisted of fifty four questions that had nothing to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry was determined to do everything he could to get rid of the professor. There was no way he was going to put up with this rubbish all year.

After they had completed their tests, Lockhart marked them – it was the first time Harry had felt embarrassed to get every question right.

There were no Cornish Pixies in their lesson, instead Lockhart told them all a story about how he had defeated a boggart in Bulgaria. A story that Harry was sure was actually word for word identical to Lockhart’s description of the event in his ‘Magical Me’ book.

It was just as boring and ridiculous as Quirrell’s lectures had been the year before and, by the time the bell rang, all the students had their bags packed and ready to go.

Lockhart looked disappointed when the bell rang, but promised them that there would be plenty of opportunities for them to hear his stories.

“Harry?” Lockhart called as the class was filing out the door. “Could you stay behind for a moment?”

Harry grimaced at Draco and turned back to the teacher. “It won’t take long will it, sir?”

“Certainly not.” Lockhart declared chirpily. He then waited until the rest of the class was gone before continuing. “I just wanted to introduce myself properly, celebrity to celebrity. You aren’t nearly as famous as I am of course, but then who is?”

Harry wished Aunt Narcissa was there, or at the very least Draco, they would know how to handle the man.

Lockhart beamed at him, white teeth glistening. “Anyway, enough of that. I don’t want you thinking that I’m some self-important idiot now, do I?” He laughed loudly and looked expectantly at Harry.

Harry straightened his back and raised an eyebrow sardonically, as he had seen each of the Malfoys do on for than one occasion.

Lockhart’s laugh ended abruptly and he looked uncomfortable for a moment before recovering and beaming at Harry again.

“So you’re Harry Potter, eh? The boy-who-lived? Terrible business that, with You-Know-Who killing your family, but then you were only a baby – what could you do? It’s a pity your parents hadn’t called me in to protect them, but then how could they know?”

Harry gritted his teeth and glared. “Can I go, professor? I need to get some lunch before my next class.”

“Of course, of course.” Lockhart agreed and Harry fled before he could change his mind.

Draco was waiting for him outside the classroom. “What was that about?”

“He wanted to tell me how much more famous he was than me and what a pity it was that I wasn’t able to save my parents before killing You-Know-Who. Apparently he could have done better.” Harry growled.

“What a wanker.” Draco sneered.

Harry agreed. “I think we should get rid of him.”

Draco sighed. “I wish we could, but father says that there’s nothing he can do.”

“Not your father, us.” Harry explained with a smirk. “Sirius told me that he and my dad and their friends used to play a lot of pranks when they were at Hogwarts. He gave me their grimoire for my birthday. I think we should use it and make Lockhart quit. I was thinking about it during class and I think there are some pranks that would be amazing.”

Draco stared at him. “Are you serious? You want us to play pranks? Like those Weasley’s? My father would be furious!”

“Nobody would have to know it was us.” Harry promised. “We can be stealthy about it.”

“I’ll consider it.” Draco allowed as the entered the Great Hall.

“Smashing.” Harry smirked. “I’ll send Sirius a letter and ask for some advice.”

4-4-4

Harry sent the letter that evening and Sirius’ reply arrived two days later. It was by far the quickest response Harry had received from his godfather and the excitement in the letter was obvious.

_‘Harry,_

_You want to prank a professor? That’s an amazing idea! Your dad would be so proud! I know I’ve mentioned some of the pranks I used to play with your dad and Remus, but I thought you might be interested in hearing some more._

_Once we spelled all the Slytherins’ robes to be see-through. It was hilarious – particularly since most of them didn’t wear anything underneath. I think it was the first time Remus saw a girl’s knockers – and I mean girls in plural!_

_Another time we snuck into the kitchens and, while Remus and James were distracting the house elves, I slipped a potion into the soup. Everyone who drank the soup ended up with hair that kept growing and not just the hair on their head if you know what I mean._

_Anyway, you wanted advice on how to prank your professor._

_First, if you’re going to prank a professor don’t let anyone know it’s you._

_Second, always sign your pranks. We used to sign ours using the ‘Marauders’. As far as I know nobody actually managed to link it back to us._

_Third, hit them where they’re weakest. Remember how I said we spelled the Slytherins’ robes to be see-through? The reason we decided to do that was because we knew that most of them would end up naked – it would have been terribly boring otherwise._

_Fourth, make sure you tell me all about it! I am so proud of you, Prongslet. All grown up and pranking people!_

_Sirius’_

The letter was a bit disturbing. Who would purposely charm people’s clothes invisible? It sounded really mean and a bit pervy to him. He was also becoming increasingly uncomfortable about how often the Slytherins had been victims in Sirius and his dad’s pranks. But the letter was also helpful. Harry particularly liked the idea of having a signature and it didn’t take him long to come up with one he liked. Draco took some convincing, but eventually he agreed to be Harry’s partner.

So the lunchtime sessions that had previously been for etiquette tutoring became their time for plotting.

“So Lord Black said to hit him where he’s weakest?” Draco asked the day Harry received the letter.

“Yes.” Harry nodded and dipped his quill in ink so he could take notes. “So what do we know about him?”

“We know that he’s a wanker.” Draco smirked. “And that he has perfect hair and perfect teeth and doesn’t shut up about that stupid Charming Smiling Award he’s won.”

“He hasn’t just won it once, Draco.” Harry told him seriously. “He’s won it _five times_ _in a row_!”

Draco grimaced. “Maybe we could do something about his smile.”

“Or his hair.” Harry added.

“We could make it look like Granger’s hair.” Draco nodded.

Harry snickered. “I bet he’d hate that.”

“We could steal his awards.” Draco suggested. “He’s got them hanging up in his classroom.”

Harry considered that. “I don’t know about stealing them, but we could definitely do something with them.”

“We also know that he can’t handle a cage of pixies.” Draco grinned. “We could set some on him in the Great Hall.”

“I’m not convinced he could handle a slug.” Harry moaned. “Did you see him trying to cast that fire spell on me during that silly re-enactment about the yeti this morning? He did the wand movement all wrong. I mean, I know that he didn’t actually want to do the spell – if he’d done it I would probably be burnt to a crisp – but I read about that spell and his hand movement wasn’t even close.”

“Well we can’t exactly send a yeti after him.” Draco pointed out.

“No, but we could find something else.” Harry argued. “Something like that troll last year.”

Draco stared at him in horror. “You want to release a troll into the school?”

“Well, maybe not a troll.” Harry sighed. “But something like it. Or we could make an illusion.”

“Illusions are really advanced, Harry.” Draco looked down at Harry’s list. “Maybe we should start with simpler stuff. Like messing with his teeth and his hair.”

“Alright.” Harry nodded before pulling out the Marauder’s Grimoire that Sirius had given him for his birthday. “There are few things in here that might work.”

4-4-4

_:Wake up!:_

Harry startled awake in surprise. “What?” He picked up his wand up from next to his pillow and cast Lumos.

 _:Finally!:_ Sarko’s voice snapped.

 _:Where are you?:_ Harry asked looking around his bed.

 _:Here:_ Sativa’s voice told him.

Harry rolled his eyes. _:That’s very helpful. Thank you:_

 _:By your pillow:_ Sativa told him.

Harry stared at his pillow for a minute, before picking it up and frowning at the two snakes who had been underneath it.

_:What’s wrong?:_

_:Did you hear her?:_ Sativa asked, her body twisted around Sarko’s.

 _:Hear who?:_ Harry asked in confusion.

 _:The big snake:_ Sarko answered with a shudder _. :She was so big:_

 _:And hungry:_ Sativa trembled and dug her head under Sarko’s body.

 _:Wait:_ Harry shook his head to try and clear his head. _:So you saw another snake? Where?:_

 _:No:_ Sarko denied _. :We heard her. Then we came here:_

 _:Why?:_ Harry asked before he could stop himself.

The two snakes shuddered again. _:She was angry:_

 _:So when you say big, was she bigger than you?:_ Harry asked.

Sarko’s hissed in irritation _. :Yessss. She was bigger than you.:_

Harry blinked _. :Okay, that’s pretty big. How do you know though? You said you only heard her:_

 _:We’re snakes:_ Sarko told him as though that fact should explain everything.

 _:Where was she?:_ Harry asked. _:She sounds way too big for someone to keep in their dorm:_

Sarko snorted. _:She would not fit in this room:_

Harry’s eyes widened _. :What? Exactly how big is this snake?:_

: _Big:_ Sativa answered, her head still buried under Sarko’s body.

 _:What kind of snake gets that big?:_ Harry asked.

 _:We don’t know:_ Sarko told him. _:Give us back the soft rock:_

Harry complied, gently placing the pillow back on top of the snakes _. :Good night.:_

Neither snake replied.

5-5-5

The next morning was Saturday and, after his and Takashi’s run, Harry went to library to find a book on large snakes. It took him a while, but eventually he found a book on large magical creatures that mentioned three snakes in it: the Naga, the Sepia, and the Basilisk. They all looked terrifying!

The Naga was a huge water snake native to Thailand that actually breathed fireballs. The Sepia was thirty feet long, native to Africa, had a lethal stare and a stinger on its tail.

The Basilisk was native to Europe and, despite having a lethal stare and impenetrable scales, seemed the least dangerous of the lot – at least it didn’t breathe fireballs or have a stinger on its tail.

Harry copied down all the relevant details about the snakes and then put it in his bag before heading to the Ravenclaw Quidditch try-outs.

Draco had already made the Slytherin team as their new chaser and Lord Malfoy had bought the entire Slytherin team Nimbus 2001 brooms to celebrate. Harry had rolled his eyes when he heard, it was as though Draco’s family had no idea how prattish that made them look.

Harry had decided to take part in both the chaser and seeker trials which meant he had to stay for the entire time. The chaser trials were first and there were ten people trying out, including Jeremy and Roger Davis who remained from the year before. It was pretty fun, though Harry dropped the ball more than he would have liked. He wasn’t terrible, but throwing and catching didn’t exactly come naturally to him.

The keeper trial was next, with Takashi defending his position against three challengers. Harry had to stay in the air for since he and the other chasers had to try and score against the keepers. Then came the beater trial, which gave Harry a break. He, Terry and Michael sat in the stands and watched as the beaters wacked the bludgers at targets and then at each other.

The seeker trial came last and had the most people trying out for it. According to Michael that was because everyone liked to think they could fly faster than anyone else.

The first thing Jeremy did was make them race. They had to circle around the Quidditch pitch three times, weaving in and out of the top of the goalposts and touching the ground during the second time around.

Harry thought it sounded fun. He got into position alongside the other fifteen seekers and waited for Jeremy’s whistle.

The instant Jeremy’s whistle blew, Harry kicked off the ground and quickly as he could and aimed his broom almost straight upwards. They were near the quaffle posts and he needed enough height to be able to weave around the three hoops properly. Weaving around the hoops was both easy and thrilling and it wasn’t until Harry was halfway around the field, heading towards the other set of hoops, that he realised that all the other seekers had chosen to go the opposite direction from him. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, Jeremy hadn’t told them which direction they were supposed to go, but it make it hard to compare his own progress with that of his opponents.

The other problem with going the opposite way was having to dodge his opponents when they crossed paths. Some of the older boys actually seemed to aim at him sometimes, which seemed like a stupid waste of time to Harry.

Touching the ground during the second round was fun and gave Harry the opportunity to show off one of the dives he had learnt with Draco over the summer. The dive made him quick, but he’d hit the ground a couple of times before figuring out how to do it properly. Harry couldn’t help but grin when he heard some of the watching students exclaim when he pulled himself out of the dive and brushed his hand across the ground before aiming his broom upwards again.

When he came to the final stretch of the race, Harry pressed his body down on the broom and forced as much speed out of his broom as he could – not slowing down until the last minute. It meant that his landing was messy, he actually tumbled of his room and rolled a bit, but when he stood up he saw that he was the first seeker back.

“Are you alright, Harry?” Takashi asked in concern.

“Yes, thanks.” Harry nodded. “I think I’ll have a few bruises though.”

“That was very impressive.” Takashi smiled. “Oh look, here comes Chang and Burke.”

Harry watched as one of the third year girls gracefully landed, with a sixth year boy landing just seconds behind her.

The rest of the seekers landed soon after and Jeremy called for their attention. “Alright, Potter, Chang and Burke, Urquant, and Smythe you five will move onto the second part. The rest of you can go.”

There was some grumbling from the dismissed seekers, but Harry was soon distracted when Jeremy released six training snitches into the air and instructed them to catch as many as they could.

Harry caught his first snitch after five minutes and then caught his second snitch a minute later. It was a few minutes later that he spotted Chang and Smythe both chasing a snitch near one of the goal posts and he sped towards them.

Chang was definitely better than Smythe, in regards to both speed and tactics. She had inched ahead of him and was now swerving to cut him off every time it looked like he might pass her. Harry was flying a good twenty meters above them, something he continued to do until he was flying directly above the snitch and then he dove for it. Chang’s fingers were inches away from it when he suddenly snatched it up, and it was only his fast downward trajectory that prevented him from being hit.

Harry straightened out and then looked around for another snitch. It only took him seconds to spot one, or rather the sight of Burke and Urquant chasing one, but by the time he made it halfway across the field towards them Burke had already caught it.

Jeremy’s whistle sounded loudly and Harry landed gently in front of him.

“So you can land properly.” Jeremy hassled with a grin. “I was wondering.”

Harry rolled his eyes.

When all the seekers had landed, Jeremy cleared his throat. “Alright. Who caught how many?”

“I caught two.” Chang replied quickly.

“One for me.” Burke added.

“I caught three.” Harry pulled them out of his pocket and handed them to Jeremy.

Burke and Smythe looked embarrassed.

“Okay then.” Jeremy nodded. “I’ll be posting the team tomorrow, but I might as well announce the seeker now. Congrats, Harry.”

Harry grinned. “Really? Thanks!”

“That’s not fair!” Chang grumbled. “He’s got a Nimbus 2001. I thought this was about talent, not about who’s got the best broom!”

“Come on, Chang,” Jeremy sighed. “Don’t be a snotty loser. You’ve got a Nimbus 2000, that’s better than Burke and Urquant’s brooms.”

Chang glared at Harry before storming over to where her friends were waiting for her.

Urquant, Burke and Smythe all shook Harry’s hand and offered him their congratulations before leaving Harry with Jeremy.

“How does it feel?” Jeremy asked when they were alone. “You made the Quidditch Team.”

“Brilliant!” Harry grinned. “When are we practising?”

“Well, I’ll post the team tomorrow and then we’ll start training on Monday.” Jeremy answered. “Flitwick’s booked the pitch for us on Mondays and Wednesdays at five after classes and Saturdays at ten.”

Harry laughed. “What, no early morning trainings?”

“Bloody hell, no!” Jeremy shook his head. “Wood’s welcome to them.”

4-4-4


	6. Chapter 5

The Quidditch try-outs had left Harry feeling sweaty so he showered and changed before making his way to the unused classroom to meet Draco. They had arranged to meet to discuss their plans to prank Lockhart, but Harry pulled the information he had found on snakes out of his bag first.

“Last night Sarko and Sativa woke me up because they had heard a giant snake.” Harry said. “They said that she was angry and hungry and so big that she wouldn’t fit in our dorm.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“They were terrified.” Harry told him. “They spent the rest of the night hiding under my pillow. I went to library this morning and found three different kinds of snakes that big: the basilisk, naga and sepia, none of which seem very friendly.”

“No really?” Draco drawled sarcastically. “Are you sure your snakes aren’t just imagining things?”

Harry tilted his head to the side. “I don’t know, maybe. They were pretty scared.”

“I’d be scared if I imagined a giant snake.” Draco told him. “Surely if one of those snakes were in Hogwarts we would have seen it?”

Harry nodded. “That’s true. I was thinking about owling your mother, but I’ll wait to see if anything happens.”

“Good idea.” Draco agreed. “We don’t want to upset her for no reason.”

Harry put the parchment back in his bag. “So have you thought about my idea for the potion?”

Draco smirked. “It sounds smashing. Have you figured out how we’re going to get it on him? And how we’re going to sign it?”

Harry sighed. “Not really, have you?”

“Well, you know how Lockhart always uses the same door into the Great Hall?” Draco asked. “I thought maybe we could hover a disillusioned cauldron of potion over that doorway and then tip it over when he comes through.”

“What if we transfigured the cauldron out of a fork or something?” Harry suggested. “And then just turned it back into whatever it was beforehand. That way we can be sure the cauldron doesn’t hit him in the head.”

Draco nodded. “Okay. Can you cast a disillusionment charm?”

“No,” Harry’s shoulders slumped. “It’s a N.E.W.T. spell.”

“Well, we can’t just hang a cauldron there without hiding it. People will notice.”

“Wait,” Harry said suddenly. “I think there might be a parselmagic spell for this sort of thing. I’ll have to find it in the book Takashi lent me though.”

“Smashing.” Draco perked up excitedly. “Now we just need to figure out how to do the signature.”

“We could write it on the wall.” Harry suggested. “Above the doorway. So that when the potion hits Lockhart it suddenly appears on the wall above him.”

Draco smirked. “How though?”

“You look that up and I’ll try and find a way to hide the cauldron.” Harry told him. “The potion lasts a week, so even if we make it tomorrow, we’ve got time.”

“Alright.”

Harry turned his attention back to the cauldron. “I am so looking forward to seeing Lockhart’s face.”

Draco snickered. “And the rest of his head.”

4-4-4

As promised, Jeremy posted the list of people who had made the Quidditch team the next morning before breakfast and Terry was delighted to hear that he had made the team.

It was a bit awkward since Michael hadn’t, but he didn’t seem too disappointed and spent the morning congratulating both Harry and Terry. Anthony on the other hand spent the morning glaring at Harry.

“What’s his problem?” Harry muttered at Terry during a chess game.

“Whose problem?” Terry asked, his attention focussed on the board.

“Anthony’s,” Harry answered. “He’s been glaring at me since he found out that I made the Quidditch Team.”

“Check.” Terry said as he moved his bishop.

Harry grimaced and turned his attention back to the board. “I should have played this more over the summer.”

“Probably.” Terry chuckled. “You’re definitely better than you were this time last year though. I’m not beating you by much.”

Harry stared at the board and then moved his rook between the bishop and his king.

Terry frowned and moved his own rook forward, to which Harry responded by taking out Terry’s only remaining knight.

“How did I miss that?” Terry asked shaking his head as his knight was decimated.

“I’m just that good.” Harry joked.

“Well, I wouldn’t quite go that far.” Terry grinned.

“So, Anthony.” Harry reminded. “You talk to him more than I do. What’s his problem? He didn’t even try out for the Quidditch team.”

“No idea.” Terry admitted. “I think there’s just something about you that rubs him up the wrong way. The fact that you’re traditional and friends with Malfoy doesn’t help.”

“You’re traditional.” Harry pointed out. “And he doesn’t hate you.”

“Yeah, but nobody has to bow to me.” Terry moved his bishop into retreat. “And I’ve never going to get a seat on the Wizengamot because of who my family is. And I’m not friends with the Malfoys. Did you hear that your cousin bribed his way onto the Slytherin team?”

“No he didn’t.” Harry sighed. “You shouldn’t listen to gossip. He made the team fair and square and then Lord Malfoy bought them all brooms to celebrate.”

Terry snorted. “Rich people. Hey, you’re rich. Maybe you should buy our whole team brooms to celebrate too.”

“I’m actually surprised the school doesn’t have good brooms for the teams to all use.” Harry said as he moved a pawn forward.

“The problem is that the brooms would be outdated in a year and terribly outdated in three years.” Terry explained. “And they’re bloody expensive.”

“He’s still glaring at me.” Harry grumbled. “It’s not like he has to bow to me.”

“No, but you are everything that the Goldsteins stand against.” Terry told him, grinning as his bishop took out one of Harry’s pawns.

“What, orphaned, scarred and studious?” Harry asked.

Terry rolled his eyes. “Rich, traditional, and privileged.”

Harry sneered. “Yeah, privileged, that’s me. I grew up with muggles who don’t like me. Besides, he’s rich too, isn’t he? His trunk is almost as expensive as mine.”

“I’m not saying that it’s logical.” Terry sighed. “You asked what Anthony’s problem with you was, I’m answering you.”

“Actually, I asked what his problem was.” Harry smirked. “That’s an entirely different question.”

5-5-5

After lunch Harry sneaked his cauldron out of the dorms and carried it down to his and Draco’s classroom.

Draco was already there and had laid out the ingredients he had brought out on a desk.

“Merry meet.” Harry greeted him. “We should get some comfortable chairs in here or something. Decorate it as our own.”

Draco tilted his head to the side. “Alright. But we’ll need to find a way to protect it. There’s no point in decorating the room if other people can come and mess it up.”

“Good point.” Harry agreed. “Maybe there’s a parselmagic spell that could guard it.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “That would be brilliant. Would it let me in though? Since I’m not a parselmouth?”

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted. “I’ll do some research.”

Draco turned his attention to Harry’s cauldron. “Did you bring the stand?”

“I put it inside the cauldron.” Harry told him, pulling it out. “It was easier to carry that way.”

“We should put some water in it and light the fire underneath before we start preparing the rest of the ingredients.” Draco said. “The water is supposed to be boiling before we add the next ingredient.”

“Did you bring Standard Potioning Water?” Harry asked.

“Of course.” Draco looked offended. “It’s in that bottle.”

Harry looked at the bottle Draco was pointed at suspiciously. It didn’t look at thought it would hold a litre of water, let alone the six litres they needed.

“It’s bigger on the inside.” Draco rolled his eyes. “You’re such a muggle sometimes.”

Harry grinned to himself as they began measuring the water and pouring it into the cauldron. Draco had hardly even sneered at the thought of muggles. Their trips to the muggle world had definitely done his cousin some good.

5-5-5

Harry had his first Quidditch practise with the Ravenclaw team the next day and it was very interesting. The team was made up of entirely of guys. The beaters were Duncan Inglebee, a third year and Jason Samuels, a sixth year. The three chasers were Jeremy, Terry and a fourth year named Roger Davis, while Takashi was the keeper

Jeremy talked about strategies a lot, which wasn’t something Harry had given much thought to, and then had them all go through a series of drills on their brooms.

It was fun and Harry soon realised that despite all his morning runs and Quidditch practise with Draco, his muscles were not prepared for the sort of drills that Jeremy was having them run. By the time Jeremy dismissed them for the night, Harry’s muscles were aching and Terry didn’t look much better.

“It gets easier.” Takashi promised them as they made their way to the locker room. “Your muscles will get used to it.”

“I don’t get it.” Terry groaned. “I’ve been practising every day for most of the summer. You’d think my muscles would be used to it by now.”

Harry nodded. “I practised with Draco every three days.”

Duncan Inglebee laughed. “Yeah, but I’ll bet you weren’t doing half the stuff that Jeremy just made us do.”

Terry groaned again as they stripped off their sweaty clothes and made their way for the showers. “Why didn’t my sister warn me?”

“Oh yeah,” Samuels grinned. “Your sister is Melanie Boot, right? She was captain my first few years on the team. What’s she doing these days?”

“She’s just started playing for the Holyhead Harpies.” Terry answered with obvious pride. “She’s their new keeper.”

Samuels whistled. “No kidding. Good for her.”

“That’s what I want to do when I graduate.” Inglebee said firmly.

Jeremy and Samuels both laughed. “What? Play for the Holyhead Harpies?”

“I think you’ve got the wrong equipment, mate.”

Harry grinned at Inglebee’s embarrassed denials.

“No, I mean I want to play professionally.” Inglebee tried to explain. “I want to play for the Pride of Portre.”

“Oh, yeah.” Stevens nodded. “I forgot you were Scottish. It’s just a pity none of your teams have won the cup in decades.”

“At least we don’t have any really embarrassing teams.” Inglebee shot back. “Have you seen the Chudley Cannons play recently? They’re bloody awful.”

“I know.” Stevens moaned. “I reckon they should just be kicked out of the league.”

“What they really need is a new owner.” Roger Davis put in. “Someone who’s willing to fire everyone involved and start from scratch.”

“Not everyone surely.” Jeremy argued. “Their new seeker’s not too bad and I think their Beater Coach does good work, or at least he would if his beaters weren’t useless.”

Harry dried himself off, enjoying the conversation around him. He didn’t really know much about professional Quidditch, except what he sometimes heard his dorm mates talking about, but it was interesting to hear different peoples’ opinions.

“Did you hear that apparently Weasley’s favourite team is the Cannons?” Terry whispered with a grin. “I didn’t know they had any fans left.”

“Which Weasley?” Harry asked. “There’s five of them now.”

“The one in our year.” Terry answered. “Ron. I heard him moaning about how the Wigtown Wanderers thrashed them last week.”

“That’s your favourite team, right?” Harry commented.

“It was.” Terry nodded. “But now I’m supporting the Harpies. I can’t exactly not support my sister, can I?”

“Good point.” Harry pulled his shirt over his head. “Can you recommend any good books on Quidditch strategy?”

Terry grinned. “Weren’t you just complaining this morning that you had too many books to read?”

“Well, yes.” Harry admitted. “But I haven’t read much about Quidditch and I want to know as much as I can before our first game.”

“I approve.” Jeremy said loudly, clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Using your ravenclawness for good.”

Takashi rolled his eyes. “Yes, because reading about Quidditch is definitely the best use for ‘ravenclawness’.”

Harry laughed at the sight of the dignified Japanese boy using his fingers to emphasise the quote marks.

“I can lend you a few books, Harry.” Jeremy promised, ignoring his friend. “You might want to find a book specifically on seeker strategies as well though. Diggory might have one. He’s the Hufflepuff seeker and he’s in my year. I can ask him if you like?”

“Yes, thanks.” Harry smiled gratefully even as he mentally rearranged the order in which he was going to read the books. The Occlumency book Snape had lent him was definitely next on the list. The only reason he hadn’t read it yet was because he had rule about finishing a book before starting the next one. But after the Occlumency book he would read one about Quidditch strategies. He wanted to be the best seeker he could possibly be.

5-5-5

The Occlumency book was intense and Harry ended up reading it with a dictionary next to him so he could look up all the words he didn’t know. It was slow reading, which, along with all the other things on his plate, meant that he barely managed to read a chapter a day.

He’d managed to find the parselmagic spell to hide the cauldron though, which meant that his and Draco’s plan to prank Professor Lockhart was right on schedule. It took Draco a day longer to find a way to write a message on the wall that would appear on cue, which meant that Thursday was the day.

So, after their classes on Thursday afternoon, Draco and Harry met in their abandoned classroom to get everything set up. Harry’s transfiguration was the best, so he transfigured a spoon into a cauldron – though it looked more like a very large goblet – and then they transferred the potion into it.

“You ready?” Harry asked his cousin with an excited grin.

Draco grimaced. “What if we get caught? My father will be furious if he hears that I was pranking someone.”

“Come on!” Harry rolled his eyes and handed him his invisibility cloak. “That’s what my cloak is for, remember? You’re going to hide under it while you put the message on the wall so that nobody sees you.”

“I am blaming you if we get in trouble for this.” Draco threatened as he threw the cloak over his head and disappeared.

“We won’t get caught.” Harry reassured him before picking up the cauldron-goblet. “Can you carry this under the cloak? Or do I need to make is invisible first?”

“You should spell it first.” Draco’s voice told him. “That way nobody will be able to hear you cast parselmagic.”

“Good point.” Harry agreed, setting the cauldron-goblet down again and pulling Sarko out of his pocket. : _Are you ready?:_

 _:I’m not actually doing anything:_ Sarko reminded him grumpily. : _Hurry up, it’s cold out here.:_

Harry rolled his eyes, but did as the snake asked and quickly cast the spell on the cauldron-goblet.

“Smashing!” Draco exclaimed as the cauldron-goblet disappeared. “Now we just have to make sure we don’t accidently lose it.”

Harry returned Sarko to his pocket and carefully picked up the cauldron-goblet. “Do I look like I’m carrying something?”

“Definitely.” Draco told him. “Maybe we shouldn’t have made it invisibly until we got there.”

“Well I can’t undo it now.” Harry answered. “I don’t know the spell. What if you take of the cloak for now and we carry it together, one hand on each side? Then you can put the cloak on later.”

“Fine.” Draco grumbled as he pulled of the cloak, before carefully folding it and putting it in his pocket. Then he felt around for the cauldron’s handle. “Are you ready?”

“Ready.” Harry nodded. “We pick it up in three, two, one, now.”

They heaved it up and then carefully manoeuvred out of the door.

They got a few funny looks as they carefully made their way to the Great Hall, but none of them were suspicious so Harry ignored them. It took them ten minutes to get to the great hall, which was thankfully empty.

“Okay.” Harry said. “Putting it down now.”

“How am I supposed to tell where it is to levitate it?” Draco whispered quickly as he pulled the invisibility cloak out of his pocket.

Harry grimaced. “I didn’t think of that. What if we put it there and then you just know that you have to levitate it up seven feet and then move it two feet to the right. So that it’s hovering right there, then I’ll know exactly where to point my wand when I’m turning the cauldron back into a spoon.”

Draco looked around to make sure nobody was watching before quickly throwing on the invisibility cloak. “Okay, I’m going to do the spell now. Keep a look out.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Draco you’re invisible and casting a colourless spell. What do you think people are going to see?”

It took a few minutes, but suddenly there was writing in bright orange letters on the wall.

“Good job!” Harry praised. “Now make it go away again, I think I hear people coming.”

The writing blinked out a moment later and Harry couldn’t help but grin. “We did it.”

“Not yet.” Draco cautioned. “We can celebrate tonight, if it works.”

“Alright.” Harry agreed. “Now let’s go before anyone sees us.”

They split up, each going to their common rooms to make sure that none of their friends suspected them, and Harry spent the following few hours working on his homework.

Half an hour before dinner was due to start, Harry told his friends that he wanted to stop by the library before dinner and headed down to the Great Hall. On his way he ducked into an alcove and threw his invisibility cloak over his head.

Draco was already in the Great Hall when Harry arrived, he was sitting at the Slytherin table, less than ten feet away from the cauldron, facing the door. Harry positioned himself just outside the door so that he would be able to see when Lockhart was coming.

Five minutes before dinner, Harry heard Lockhart’s voice echoing down the corridor and he darted into the Hall. He felt around the cauldron to make sure that Draco already had it levitated it and, when he couldn’t feel it, found somewhere to stand – close enough that he could easily target the cauldron and far enough away that he wouldn’t get splattered with the potion.

It worked perfectly!

The instant Lockhart’s foot stepped through the door, Harry removed the transfiguration from the spoon come cauldron, and the potion fell directly on Lockhart’s hair.

Lockhart let out a shriek of horror and his hands flew to his hair that was now dripping with a purple potion.

The hall fell silent for a moment, as Lockhart’s shriek drew all the students’ attention, before everyone began laughing and whispering. Even the professors looked amused.

“Who did this?” Lockhart shrieked loudly, as his hands tugged at his hair, desperately trying to remove the potion. Then, all of a sudden, Lockhart froze as his tugging started removing his hair.

Lockhart shrieked again before turning and fleeing from the hall. The students responded by bursting into loud and rambunctious laughter. Across the hall Harry could see some of the Gryffindors slapping the Weasley twins on the back. The twins themselves were staring at the door that Lockhart had fled out of as though they had seen a ghost.

Harry looked back at the door expectantly and grinned when he saw the words that Draco had spelled there:

‘This prank was brought to you by The Marauders’ Apprentices.’

5-5-5

“We did it.” Draco exclaimed excitedly when they met in their unused classroom the next day during lunch.

Harry grinned in reply. “I know. It was epic! Everybody’s talking about it.”

“Though most people think it was the Weasley twins.” Draco looked disgruntled.

“Which is good.” Harry pointed out. “It takes any suspicion off us.”

“Yeah, but I heard someone ask them and they didn’t deny it.” Draco grumbled. “They just smirked and walked away.”

Harry frowned, he didn’t like the idea of the Weasley twins taking credit for their prank.

“Exactly.” Draco nodded. “We should prank them.”

Harry grinned. “Definitely. But not yet. I think we should wait until we’ve gotten rid of Lockhart. That way we’ll have had some more practise and will be able to make the prank spectacular.”

“Alright.” Draco agreed. “So what are we doing to Lockhart next?”

“Do you want to try your idea of messing with his teeth?” Harry asked.

Draco smirked. “What should we do?”

“We could stain them black or something?” Harry suggested.

“We should make them fall out.” Draco said suddenly. “Madame Pomfrey can always make then grow back with skelegrow.”

Harry considered that. “It’s kind of intense.”

“But it would be smashing.” Draco pointed out. “And even better than our last prank.”

“Are you sure that skelegrow can grow teeth?” Harry asked.

“We can research it to make sure.” Draco said. “How would we do it?”

“A potion?” Harry suggested. “But I don’t know where we would find one, there’s nothing about teeth in the Marauders’ Grimoire.”

“We can’t ask Uncle Severus.” Draco commented. “Maybe we should look in some books on healing? I think healers sometimes have to make people’s teeth fall out.”

Harry grimaced. “Why?”

Draco shrugged. “I don’t know. I just remember my mother commented that her great uncle had his teeth replaced.”

“Okay.” Harry nodded. “I’ll get some books out tonight and bring them here, we can start researching tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Draco nodded.


	7. Chapter 6

The next Monday morning, five days after their prank, Hedwig brought Harry a letter from Sirius. Harry slipped it into his bag to read later. He didn’t want his friends to read it over his shoulder and find out that he had been responsible for making Lockhart bald.

Lockhart’s hair had unfortunately grown back, likely with the help of a hair-growing potion, but the prank certainly seemed to have knocked the professor’s confidence a bit. A fact that was more than obvious during their double period of DADA that morning.

Lockhart was still reciting the stories from his books, and still forcing Harry to roleplay as the creatures Lockhart had defeated, but whenever he heard someone laughing the professor would stiffen uncomfortably. He touched his hair at least once a minute too, as though to reassure himself that it was there. Harry thought it was hilarious and had to implement everything Cousin Narcissa had taught him about hiding his emotions in order to keep from laughing.

Draco seemed to find it equally amusing and spent the class keeping a tally of the times Lockhart touched his hair, and drawing little toothless caricatures.

 They hadn’t found a potion that they could use to make Lockhart’s teeth fall out yet, but Harry was hopeful that they would find one before long. Worst case scenario, they could start looking for spells that would have the same effect.

They had lunch after DADA and, as usual, Harry ate quickly before hurrying to the classroom where he and Draco met. He arrived before his cousin and so sat down at one of the desks and pulled out the letter from Sirius.

_‘Prongslet,_

_I am so proud of you! What an amazing prank! Your father would have been proud too. Thank you for all the details, I almost fell out of my chair laughing while I was reading your letter. Maybe when you’re older I’ll get the memory off you, though I’m sure by then you’ll have even better pranks to show me._

_There’s something special about a wizard’s first prank though, I still treasure the memory of my first prank – though it wasn’t nearly as good as yours. There was this prank you could buy back then that, when put on someone’s seat, made a farting sound and let out a terrible smell. The best thing was that it disappeared straight away so that there was no proof. I placed it under my mother’s chair during one of her dinner parties, Merlin was she mad!’_

_Anyway, have you got another prank planned? How is school going? Have you met any nice witches?_

_Your godfather,_

_Sirius.’_

“Merry meet.” Draco greeted him as he entered the room and bowed.

“Merry meet.” Harry returned. “Sirius sent me a letter.”

“Oh?” Draco sat in a nearby chair. “What did he think of our prank?”

Harry grinned. “He loved it.  He says he almost fell out of his chair laughing.”

“You didn’t mention me did you?” Draco asked worriedly. “I don’t want my father finding out.”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I promised I wouldn’t. I haven’t mentioned your family since the first time when it took him a month to reply. I suppose I should try again. He’s been at the mind-healers for months now, maybe he’d gotten better.”

“I don’t think he’s just going to get over his dislike of my family.” Draco sighed. “Mother says he’s Dumbledore’s man through and through.”

“Why did your mother and father get him out of Azkaban then?” Harry asked.

“Because he’s mother’s cousin.” Draco said flatly. “The Blacks are loyal to each other.”

“Do you think he knows that it was your parents who got him out?” Harry asked. “Maybe I should remind him.”

“You should probably leave it for now.” Draco suggested.

Harry sighed. “I just really like your family and I don’t want him to forbid me from visiting you next summer if I start living with him.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.” Draco frowned. “Maybe we should ask mother what she thinks. I could write to her if you like?”

“That would be great.” Harry smiled thankfully. “Have you had any luck finding a potion yet?”

“No,” Draco sighed. “But I brought the book with me.”

“I brought my one too.” Harry told him, pulling it out of his bag.

They spent the rest of the lunch period reading through the potion textbooks, but by the time the bell rang they still hadn’t found a potion that would make Lockhart’s teeth fall out.

Harry had charms after lunch, during which Flitwick had them practise the hiccup-curing charm. Harry had gotten the spell during their first practise period, so he just let Terry practise it on him a lot.

6-6-6

When they still hadn’t found the potion they were looking for three days later, Harry returned to the library to get some new books out. On his way back to the Ravenclaw Tower, Harry met a tiny first year at the bottom of the staircase.

The girl’s hair was the same colour as Draco’s, which made Harry wonder if they were related. Harry’s eyes narrowed in concern when he saw that the girl wasn’t wearing any shoes. The castle floor could be really cold.

“Merry meet.” The girl greeted him dreamily with a curtsey.

“Merry meet.” Harry smiled and nodded in acknowledgment. “I’m Harry Potter.”

“I know who you are.” The girl told him as they began walking up the staircase.

“Oh.” Harry felt flummoxed, what was he supposed to say to that?

“I’m Luna.” The girl told him. “Luna Lovegood.”

“It’s nice to meet you.” Harry told her, feeling grateful that he was back on familiar conversational ground. “How are you enjoying your first few weeks at Hogwarts?”

“Very well thank you.” Luna answered, her voice still dreamy. “Though the amount of nargles is a bit off-putting. I’ve never seen so many before you see.”

Harry’s turned to stare at her. “What are nargles?”

“They’re a magical creature, silly.” Luna told him. “They are particularly good thieves, you know.”

“No, I didn’t.” Harry shook his head. “Is that why you aren’t wearing shoes? Did nargles steal them?”

“Of course.” Luna giggled. “I don’t mind though, not really. It’s nice to be able to feel the world with my toes.”

“Oh.” Harry said again. “That’s great then.”

They reached the top of the staircase and then listened to the riddle that the knocker gave them. “I’m tall when I’m young and I’m short when I’m old. What am I?”

“A crumple-horned snorkack.” Luna answered.

Harry frowned as the door swung open, there was no way he would have gotten that. He’d been thinking that it was a candle, he’d never even heard of a snorkack before.

“Merry part, Harry Potter.” Luna told him sweetly before skipping through the common room towards the girls’ dormitories.

“Merry part.” Harry replied absently, before making his way towards the couch where Terry and Michael were sitting.

“Who was that?” Terry asked as he sat down.

“One of the first years.” Harry answered.

“Obviously.” Michael snorted. “She’s tiny.”

“She said her name was Luna Lovegood.” Harry continued.

“Lovegood, Lovegood.” Terry muttered. “Where have I heard that name before?”

“My great uncle married a Lovegood.” Michael volunteered.

“That won’t be where I’ve heard of them though.” Terry pointed out with a frown. “What’s she like?”

Harry considered that. “She seemed nice. Weird, but not in a bad way. What are nargles?”

Terry and Michael both frowned. “What?”

“Nargles?” Harry repeated. “And, uh, crumple-horned snorkacks.”

“Never heard of them.” Michael shook his head, looking mystified.

“That’s where I’ve heard of the Lovegoods.” Terry exclaimed. “There’s this newspaper, it is absolute bonkers, and the editor is a wizard named Lovegood. Talks about snorkacks all the time.”

“Bonkers?” Harry asked. “Why?”

“And more importantly, why do you read it?” Michael added.

“My grandmother reads it.” Terry answered. “I got bored at her house over the summer and she gave me one to read. The article I read suggested that the Weird Sisters were actually trolls wearing an illusion.”

“You mean the band?” Michael asked. “That is bonkers.”

Terry nodded.

“Weird.” Harry agreed. “Luna was nice though. Said something about nargles being thieves. She said that’s why she wasn’t wearing shoes. Apparently the nargles stole them.”

Michael looked concerned. “Do you think she’s alright?”

“We’ll keep an eye out.” Terry decided. “It’ll be winter soon, she can’t keep walking around in bare feet.”

 “You and first year girls, Harry.” Michael grinned. “Have you figured out who that redhead girl who’s following you is yet?”

“She’s a Weasley.” Harry groaned. “I saw her with them in Diagon Alley over the summer.”

“I should have guessed.” Terry laughed. “Wasn’t Weasley, Ron I mean, following you around this time last year?”

“You’re like a Weasley magnet.” Michael sniggered.

“Shut up.” Harry groaned. “It’s not my fault.”

“Maybe not.” Michael agreed. “But it is funny.”

Harry just groaned again.

6-6-6

They had Astronomy class that night and Professor Sinistra spent the first hour continuing her review of what they had learnt last year before explaining that they would each be making a mobile based on the planets in their solar system that year.

Harry thought it sounded pretty cool until Sinistra told them that twenty percent of their grade would be based on their mobile. Making a mobile was one thing, being graded on their ability (or in his case inability) to do craft was another.

Astronomy class meant a late night and by the time Harry crawled into bed it was one in the morning. Harry tugged his curtains shut and then tugged the covers over his shoulders before snuggling into his pillow and closing his eyes.

The next thing he knew he was sitting in a dark sitting room and sneering at a chubby looking man who was on his knees in front of him.

“I’m sorry, master.” The chubby man snivelled. “I’m sorry, I’ll do better. Forgive me.”

“Crucio!” Harry cursed the man and sneered as he fell on his face, screaming from the pain. After a while, Harry released the curse and the man pull himself back to his knees.

“I do not forgive, Wormtail.” Harry sneered.

“S-s-sorry, master.” The man stuttered.

“So there is no way we can get the boy.” Harry mused. “Unfortunate, but not catastrophic. There are plenty of substitutes available. Or perhaps, I simply need a more efficient servant.”

Harry smirked as Wormtail shuddered again, his body still trembling from the curse. “Crucio!”

The next thing Harry felt was a squeezing sensation around his chest and a burning sensation from his scar. He sat up with a scream of pain and brought a hand to his forehead.

When the pain in his scar had decreased, Harry opened his eyes to look around and was half surprised to find himself in his bed. The dream had seemed so real!

: _Finally!:_ Sarko hissed in annoyance from where he was wrapped around Harry’s chest. : _Stupid human:_

 _:Ignore him:_ Sativa advised from her place near Harry’s pillow. : _He was just worried. We both were:_

Harry rubbed his scar. : _Thanks for waking me up. I was having a bad dream:_

 _:Stupid human:_ Sarko muttered again.

Harry lay down again, careful not squash the snake wrapped around him, and stared up at the top of his bed.

: _What were you dreaming about?:_ Sativa asked.

: _A man:_ Harry grimaced. : _I was torturing him:_

 _:It was just a dream:_ Sativa told him softly, as she slithered up so her head was resting on his shoulder.

: _Maybe:_ Harry sighed. : _But my scar hurt too. It’s the second time in two months. I’ll have to tell Healer Axecure:_

 _:Tomorrow:_ Sativa told him firmly. : _Sleep:_

Harry shook his head. : _I don’t want the dream to come back:_

 _:We will wake you if you dream again:_ Sarko promised. : _Sleep!:_

_6-6-6_

When Harry’s alarm went off a few hours later, he seriously considered ignoring it and going back to sleep. He didn’t want to miss his meditation or his run with Takashi though, so he pulled himself upright with a groan.

Sarko and Sativa hissed in complaint from where they were circled up beside his pillow and Harry hissed an apology.

Harry rubbed his eyes to try and wake himself up, before sitting cross-legged on the bed and beginning his meditation.

He was very glad that he had learnt how to meditate the year before. He’d originally started learning because it was one of the steps to learning how to do magic without a wand, but, according to the book that Professor Snape had lent him, meditation was essential for Occlumency too.

Harry hadn’t actually tried any of the Occlumency exercises yet, he’d been busy planning the pranks on Lockhart with Draco, but he was looking forward to learning it.

He hadn’t tried wandless magic either and as Harry began his breathing to begin meditating he determined to arrange a time to practise soon. He’d invite Neville too, his Gryffindor friend had seemed excited about the idea during their carriage ride to the castle at the beginning of the year.

Harry shut his eyes and breathed in, and out, in, and out, in, and out…

6-6-6

Breakfast that morning was just as amusing as it always was after an astronomy class and Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing when Rodney put his spoon into his pumpkin juice instead of his porridge bowl.

Hedwig came with the rest of the owls and Harry grinned when he saw a letter from Sirius tied to her leg. Ever since he and Draco had pranked Lockhart, Sirius had been writing him two letters a week. It was nice to have an adult who cared enough about him to write regularly – even if Sirius’ letters often contained pranking stories that seemed uncomfortably close to bullying.

The first time Sirius had told him about a prank that the Marauders had played on Professor Snape, Harry hadn’t known what to think. It was hard to imagine his strict potions professor as a teenager, let alone as one with blue hair. But after the fourth story that involved his Dad, Sirius, and a man named Remus playing some kind of prank on Snape, Harry’ stomach had soured. It didn’t seem right to target just one person with so many pranks – particularly not when it was three on one.

Harry even began doubting his and Draco’s plans to prank Lockhart until their professor decided to quit. But then he remembered that Lockhart was hardly defenceless – he was an adult. And if he was half the wizard that all his books claimed he was then he should be able to protect himself from two twelve year old boys.

Hedwig ate some bacon off Harry’s plate and then nibbled his ear affectionately. Harry stroked her feathers as he pulled out the letter he had penned to Healer Axecure, before attaching it to her leg.

“What’s that?” Terry asked him sleepily. “Are you writing to Lord Black again?”

“No, I just got a letter from him now. I’ll probably write a reply tonight.” Harry told him. “That letter is for Gringotts.”

Terry grimaced. “Sounds boring.”

“Not as boring as History though.” Michael groaned. “I can’t believe we have it first.”

“Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing?” Terry asked him. “History of Magic is basically an excuse to sleep. It’s perfect timing.”

Harry rolled his eyes as Hedwig flew away. “You know if you listened to Binns you might actually hear something interesting.”

“There is nothing interesting about the International Warlock Convention of 1289.” Terry said firmly. “And he’s been going on about it for weeks.”

“It’s important.” Harry argued. “Did you know that the treaty we made with Japan at that convention is still valid? They haven’t changed it in over seven hundred years.”

“Give up, Harry.” Michael advised him. “Terry can’t help being an ignorant buffoon.”

“Ignorant buffoon?” Terry exclaimed. “Who was it that was throwing paper planes at the back of Harry’s head last history class?”

“That was you?” Harry asked with a frown.

Michael shot an annoyed look at Terry. “Yeah, sorry about that. But, really, I’m pretty sure Binns was repeating the same lecture as the class before that one.”

“Some of it was the same.” Harry acknowledged. “But he talked a bit about the German delegation which was new.”

“Why do you even care?” Rodney asked with a groan. “It’s all in the textbook anyway.”

“No it’s not.” Harry returned. “Last week he spent five minutes talking about how the convention still effects the relationship between India and Scandinavia. That’s not in our textbook. It’s not in the book I read for the assignment either.”

Michael threw a grape at him. “The assignment’s not due for two weeks.”

“You’re a prat.” Terry told Harry with mock seriousness. “I don’t even know why we’re friends.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Because I let you partner with me in potions?”

“Good point.” Terry grinned and slung an arm around Harry’s shoulders.

“It’s my turn today though, right?” Rodney said quickly. “You had Harry on Tuesday.”

“I heard the girls talking about how they want to partner with Harry sometimes.” Michael told them.

“You’re such a gossip, Michael.” Terry told him. “But we definitely can’t let that happen. It’s bad enough only having him once every four classes, if the girls join the roster we’ll only get him every ninth class!”

“I’m sitting right here you know.” Harry grumbled fondly.

“We’ll just have to hold our ground.” Michael decided. “You’re on our side right, Harry?”

“Yeah, if you let the girls partner with you, the Slytherins will decide they want a turn.” Rodney told them.

“Harry probably wouldn’t mind that.” Terry reminded them. “He’s friends with all the Slytherins remember.”

“Come on, Harry.” Michael wheedled. “Say you’ll stay with us.”

Harry laughed. “All right, but you have to tell the girls everything you learn.”

“Deal.” Michael agreed.

6-6-6

The next day was Saturday and, after studying from seven thirty until ten and then attending Quidditch practise until lunch, Harry made his way to his and Draco’s classroom for some peace and quiet.

The problem with having friends and playing Quidditch was that it seriously cut down on his reading time. Add in the time he spent researching and planning pranks with Draco and Harry barely had any time to read the books he wanted to. He hadn’t managed to finish the Occlumency book that he’d started nine days before – Harry didn’t think he had ever taken so long to read a single book before.

The classroom wasn’t particularly comfortable, it only had the sort of chairs that they sat on in class, but it was quiet and with luck he wouldn’t be interrupted all afternoon.

Harry sat down at one of the desks and pulled the Occlumency book and dictionary he was using to translate the hard words, before opening the book to the bookmark.

He’d only read three pages when he heard the door opening and looked up in surprise.

Draco came through the door and then stopped in surprise before bowing. “Merry meet. What are you doing here?”

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded. “I’m reading. What are you doing here?”

“Hiding from Pansy.” Draco grimaced.

“Can you hide quietly?” Harry asked pleadingly.

“Definitely.” Draco promised. “I’ve got tons of homework.”

“Thanks.” Harry sighed. “I’ve been reading this book for over a week and am only just three quarters of the way through it.”

Draco peered at the book closest to him. “You’re reading the dictionary?”

“No,” Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m using the dictionary to translate the big words in my book.”

“Erg.” Draco shuddered dramatically. “Why would you read something that complicated?”

“Because it’s interesting.” Harry told him. “Now shhh.”

Draco sat primly at the desk beside Harry and pulled out some parchment and their Transfiguration textbook.

Harry watched him for a minute to ensure that his cousin wasn’t going to decide to strike up conversation, before returning to his book.

It was actually quite nice to read with Draco sitting beside him. Draco wasn’t like his Ravenclaw friends, constantly talking about what they were reading, he worked silently except for the sound of pages turning and his quill scratching on the parchment.

By the time the dinner bell rang, Harry had managed to finish the Occlumency book and write out the list of suggested exercises for learning it. He hadn’t attempted any of the exercises, the first few were supposed to be done while he was meditating which meant he would have to wait until the next morning.

It was great to have the book finished though, and not only because he wanted to learn Occlumency. His first Quidditch game was exactly two weeks away and Harry hadn’t read a single strategy book yet. Jeremy had lent him three, two of which were about general Quidditch strategy and one that he had borrowed from the Hufflepuff Seeker on specific strategies for seekers, and Harry wanted to read them all before the game. Hopefully they would be quicker to read than the Occlumency book had been.

 


	8. Chapter 7

The next day was Sunday and Harry decided to lie in and try the first step to learning Occlumency. The book said that he was supposed to decide what he wanted his mind to look like. The examples it gave were a maze, or a forest, or a castle, Harry didn’t think any of those sounded right for him.

He started his breathing and then sunk into his meditative state.

The place he chose needed to be defensible, as well as being a place where he could order his memories and thoughts. There were just so many options.

The first idea he considered was an underwater city, but he didn’t know if the lack of air would slow down people trying to read his mind – did people even need to breathe when they were in someone else’s brain?

Then he considered Hogwarts, but that seemed too generic – the people who would try to read his mind probably knew their way around Hogwarts. He needed somewhere that would be hard to navigate – somewhere where people would get lost.

Where did people get lost? Where did wizards get lost? The sight of Draco’s confused face the first time he encountered the muggle world floated to the front of Harry’s mind. Perfect! If he designed his mind to look like the muggle world, complete with taxis and trains to get to where his thoughts were, then lots of witches and wizards would have no idea how to navigate around it. He could even build it like a maze, have trains that went around in circles and signs that pointed in all the wrong directions.

He’d have to have more protections than just that though. There were a lot of wizards who knew the muggle world well. Maybe he could have his thoughts and memories in the basement of a building that had a lot of security? Though that was something he would worry about later – building up the protections was one of the later steps.

It still left the question of how he would organise his thoughts though. Maybe he could make the basement like a museum? Except he didn’t really like the idea of his thoughts and memories being on display. What about a library? That way he could have his thoughts and memories categorised carefully, but also throw in some bogey ones.

Decision made, Harry began to try and convert his mind into a library. The book had said that he should start with a small part and then add to it over time, so Harry decided to start with a single shelf. It was hard work and reminded Harry of when he was learning to meditate. He found himself easily distracted and found that he couldn’t really imagine it properly. When his hour of meditating was up, Harry was still trying to figure out how to turn his memories into books.

He gently brought himself out of his meditation and then fell back on his bed with a groan. Why was it so hard? It just seemed so airy fairy and hard to pin down. He stared at the ceiling in frustration, he’d try again tomorrow.

7-7-7

“I found it!” Draco exclaimed suddenly during their lunchbreak four days later.

They had met in their classroom as usual and, as had become their habit over the past few weeks, had been reading through potion books trying to find a recipe that would make Lockhart’s teeth fall out.

“Where?” Harry abandoned his book and stood up so he could read over Draco’s shoulder.

“The Hampaat Vetää Potion.” Draco pointed to it on the page.

Harry read the first few lines. “It’s Finnish.”

“It says that once drunken the subject’s teeth will fall out within a minute.” Draco told him. “And it doesn’t look too hard either.”

Harry skim read the recipe. “I’ve never made a potion that takes three days before.”

“Neither.” Draco looked excited. “But it doesn’t look too complicated. We’ll have to order a few of the ingredients though.”

“Well done, Draco!” Harry patted his cousin on the shoulder. “I have to admit I was pretty close to giving up.”

“It’ll be smashing though!” Draco exclaimed. “Just imagine, Lockhart drinking from his goblet and then suddenly all his teeth fall out.”

“We just have to convince the elves to put it in his goblet.” Harry commented.

“That’s your job.” Draco told him. “I’ll order the ingredients tonight and then we can start the potion.”

“After my Quidditch match.” Harry said.

Draco sighed. “Fine.”

7-7-7

When the day of the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff Quidditch match arrived, Harry was too nervous to even try to create more of his mind-library. It was hard enough to focus on normal meditation.

Takashi tried to reassure him during their run but, by the time they arrived at the Great Hall, Harry was too nervous to eat.

“You have to eat something.” Jeremy told him seriously. “You don’t want to be faint from hunger and fall off your broom.”

Harry didn’t find the thought of him falling of his broom encouraging at all.

The team met in their changing rooms, where Jeremy gave them an inspirational speech, before flying out onto the pitch in formation.

The cheering of the crowd was intimidating – Harry didn’t want to be reminded of the amount of people watching him. He flew towards the Ravenclaw goalpost and then weaved in and out of them a few times.

“Looking good, Harry.” Takashi call out to him from his place in front of the goals.

“Thanks.” Harry grinned nervously and then flew towards the centre of the court where the Hufflepuff Seeker, Cedric Diggory, Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Diggory, was waiting.

“Merry meet.” Diggory nodded to him.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded back, trying to ignore the butterflies in his stomach.

“How are you feeling?” Diggory asked kindly. “It’s your first game, right?”

“Yes. I’m a bit nervous.” Harry admitted.

“You’ll be fine. Though, hopefully not too fine.” Diggory winked at him.

Harry grinned. “Thanks for lending me that book. It was really interesting.”

“My captain told me I was crazy.” Diggory confessed. “Apparently I’m not supposed to help my competition improve.”

“I can see that.” Harry laughed. “I’ve ordered a couple of new strategy books for myself, I can lend them to you when I’ve finished them if you like?”

Diggory looked pleased. “That sounds great. Maybe then Eleanor will get off my back.”

Hooch’s whistle sounded loudly as she released the snitch and the beaters.

“Good luck.” Diggory told Harry.

“Thanks, you too.” Harry grinned, before watching as Hooch started the game by throwing the quaffle up between the two teams’ chasers and blowing her whistle again.

“And the first Quidditch Game of the season begins!” Lee Jordan’s voice echoed around the stadium. “Hufflepuff verses Ravenclaw. Not likely to be a very exciting match admittedly, but still, Quidditch is Quidditch!”

“Jordan!” McGonagall’s voice snapped.

Harry grinned in amusement. Lee was great and he had really enjoyed the older boy’s commentary the year before when he was watching the games. Of course, Lee’s comment was a bit insulting, but then you could hardly blame him. Neither Ravenclaw nor Hufflepuff had won the Quidditch cup in two decades. They just weren’t as single-minded as the Gryffindors or as ambitious as the Slytherins.

“Hufflepuff has possession,” Lee announced. “Cadwallader passes to Fawcett who evades Ravenclaw Chaser Davis with ease, before passing back to Cadwallader. Can I just say how ridiculously long the name Cadwallader is? It’s got four syllables which doesn’t make commentating easy, I can tell you!

“Hufflepuff still has possession, Stebbins passes the quaffle to Cadwallader, who shoots aaand Ravenclaw Keeper Nado blocks the shot easily.”

Harry absently listened to Lee’s commentary as he circled the pitch lazily, scanning for the snitch. Diggory was doing the same thing, only in the opposite direction, and when they passed each other Harry grinned friendlily.

About ten minutes into the game, Diggory stopped his lazy circling and dove towards the ground. Harry looked intently at the direction Diggory was aiming for, but didn’t see anything – it was probably a feint.

Nonetheless, Harry angled his broom towards Diggory’s trajectory and sped up. A quick glance towards the chasers told him that Hufflepuff had possession of the quaffle, so Harry used the opportunity to adjust his angle slightly so that, as well as chasing after Diggory, he managed to block one of the Hufflepuff Chasers for long enough for Ravenclaw to regain possession.

“Thanks, Harry!” Jeremy shouted as he passed the quaffle to Terry.

Harry was still twenty feet away from Diggory when the older boy pulled out of his dive – the snitch was nowhere in sight. Harry slowed his descent and pulled up beside Diggory.

“A nice feint there from Diggory.” Lee commented. “Certainly got Potter’s attention, I half-believed him myself. Davis passes the quaffle to Boot, who shoots and SCORES! That brings the score to 40-20 to Ravenclaw.”

“Nice flying.” Diggory grinned, before angling his broom up and speeding away.

Harry followed at a more sedate pace, keeping his eye out for the snitch. According to Diggory’s book, the snitch was able to fly more than fifty feet outside the boundary of the pitch. Which meant that the snitch could be hiding somewhere in the stands, or even under the stands.

A gold shimmer out the corner of his left eye caught his attention and he spun around quickly, only to realise that it was just a pair of gold coloured omnioculars. Harry stared at the omnioculars for a moment before grinning when he realised it was Draco – which made total sense. Who else at Hogwarts would own a pair of golden omnioculars?

Harry returned to the altitude he had been flying at before Diggory’s feint and began slowly circling the pitch again.

“Stratton passes to Davis, who dodges around Fawcett before passing to Boot. And that was a well-aimed bludger right there from Hufflepuff Beater Summers. Boot is too busy dodging the bludger to catch the quaffle and Hufflepuff Stebbins swoops it up. Stebbins passes it to Fawcett, which from what I’ve heard isn’t the only thing he’s passing her if you know what I mean.”

“Jordan!” McGonagall sounded horrified.

“Flowers, I meant flowers!” Jordan defended himself quickly. “He gave her flowers last weekend in Hogsmeade.”

Harry laughed, before cheering when Jeremy managed to intercept one of the Hufflepuffs’ passes and then scored.

Fifteen minutes later there was still no sign of the snitch, but Ravenclaw was leading at 90 points to 40.

Diggory had pulled a total of four feints in the game so far and each time Harry had chased after him despite not seeing anything. He didn’t want Diggory to catch the snitch without Harry having attempted to chase him for it.

Harry had considered pulling a feint himself, but every time he considered it butterflies would erupt in his stomach. What if Diggory didn’t follow him and he looked like an idiot? What if Diggory didn’t follow him and spotted the snitch in the opposite direction?

He watched as Jeremy scored another goal, before spotting a golden glint just behind the Hufflepuff goal. Harry glanced over at Diggory, but the older seeker was flying towards the Ravenclaw goals and so had his back to it.

Harry forced himself to keep his speed steady as he moved towards the goal as though he was still circling the pitch. It was only when he was close enough to confirm that the golden glint was in fact the snitch that Harry leant forward and sped towards it.

The snitch stayed where it was for a few more seconds, before darting away when Harry was twenty feet away. Harry followed it doggedly, weaving through the goalposts and then following it towards the Gryffindor stands.

“Potter seems to have caught sight of the snitch!” Lee announced loudly. “Diggory is on the other side of the pitch, but he’s speeding towards where the action is. Meanwhile, Stubbins passes the quaffle to Cadwallader, who ducks under Boot and passes to Fawcett…”

Harry leant forward and forced his broom to accelerate even more, he was only five feet from the snitch but if he didn’t catch it soon he’d end up playing chicken with the Gryffindor stands.

Four feet, three feet, two feet; the Gryffindor stands were getting closer and closer.

One foot and Harry could actually see the half awed, half horrified expressions on the Gryffindors in front of him.

Harry leant forward and reached out an arm, snatching the snitch out of the air from where it had suddenly stopped a foot away from a Gryffindor upperclassman’s nose, before pulling his broom up in a ninety degree turn.

“Bloody hell!” The Gryffindor swore and Harry winced when he felt the bristles of his broom hit the student’s face.

“And Potter catches the snitch!” Lee announced loudly. “And attempts to take out the competition if the scratches on Oliver Wood’s face are anything to go by. Ravenclaw win, 250 points to 50!”

Harry slowed to a stop before looking down at the Gryffindor he had hit. He couldn’t believe he had actually hit the Gryffindor Captain in his first game – how embarrassing!

“You did it!”

Harry turned around and grinned when he saw Terry racing towards him, with the rest of their team not far behind.

“Woohoo!” Jeremy shouted loudly as he circled Harry on his broom. “We did it!”

“That was an impressive catch, Potter.” Davis told him with a smile.

Harry grimaced. “I can’t believe I hit Oliver Wood.”

“Who cares about that?” Jeremy asked excitedly. “We won!”

7-7-7

“I don’t know what’s more impressive, you catching the snitch on your first game or you managing to injure Wood.” Draco laughed when they met up the next day.

Harry groaned. “Don’t remind me. It’s so embarrassing.”

“We had practise this morning and Flint spent the whole time alternating between smirking in glee and yelling at Higgs. I think you’ve got him worried.” Draco told him. “You beat Diggory!”

“Only because he was on the other side of the pitch when I spotted the snitch.” Harry pointed out.

“So?” Draco asked. “Diggory’s the best seeker at Hogwarts and you beat him during your first ever game. I bet the Gryffindors are worried; their seeker sucks.”

Harry couldn’t argue with that, the Gryffindor seeker was pretty terrible. “Higgs isn’t that much better.”

Draco grimaced. “I know. It almost makes me wish I’d tried out for seeker, but then I remember that if I was seeker I’d have to play you. Though it seems to be safer to be your opposing seeker than to be a spectator – Merlin knows who you’ll disfigure next.”

“Shut up!” Harry complained. “He’s not disfigured – Pomfrey healed the scratches in minutes.”

Draco smirked.

“Anyway!” Harry said quickly, before his cousin could say anything else. “I talked to Stompy and he’s agreed to help us get the potion in Lockhart’s drink.”

“Stompy is a house elf, I presume.” Draco asked haughtily.

“Yes.” Harry agreed. “He’s great. He was a bit cautious about the idea at first, but after I promised him that all the potion would do was make Lockhart’s teeth fall out he agreed. I don’t think the house elves like Lockhart very much.”

“Nobody likes Lockhart very much.” Draco pointed out.

“Have you got the ingredients yet?” Harry asked. “When are we going to prank him?”

“What about Hallows Eve?” Draco suggested. “Everyone will be there.”

“There’s a lot going on that night though.” Harry pointed out. “People will be distracted.”

“True.” Draco acknowledged. “Alright, how about we make the potion next weekend and then put it in Lockhart’s drink on Tuesday? I’m still waiting for the rest of the ingredients to arrive. I ordered a cauldron too so that we don’t have to use our school ones.”

“Good idea.” Harry grinned excitedly. “This is going to be brilliant!”

“Definitely!” Draco agreed with a smirk.

7-7-7

The next week was weird for Harry. Apparently the fact that he’d scratched Wood’s face while catching the snitch was the most exciting thing the school had heard all year and people kept staring at him and pointing. It was like when he’d glowed while meditating the year before.

The Gryffindors were the worst since some of them seemed to take it as a personal attack again their captain. Wood himself didn’t seem at all bothered by it and had actually stopped Harry in the hall on Monday morning to congratulate him on the catch.

Thankfully the Gryffindors in his year didn’t seem too fazed by the incident at all, or maybe it was just that Harry was already used to having Ron Weasley staring at him.

Harry’s Ravenclaw friends thought the whole thing was hilarious and, along with Neville, spent the week teasing him about it.

Harry ignored them and focussed on his classwork. Flitwick was teaching them an Amplifying Charm and McGonagall was teaching them an Engorgement Charm. They were both quite similar in theory, in that they took a something and made it bigger, but Harry was particularly interested in the Engorgement Charm. It wasn’t the first time McGonagall had ever taught them a charm, but whenever she did it was because the theory was important for a transfiguration concept that she was going to teach them.

Harry was pretty sure that McGonagall was preparing them to be able to transfigure a small object into large one – like a finch into an eagle, which was in chapter fifteen of their textbook. So far they had only transfigured things into objects of a similar size, like a mouse into a snuffbox.

Because of all the attention he was getting, Harry spent his evenings hiding in his dorm room and practising his Occlumency. It was still hard, but after three weeks of practising he had managed to create two bookcases, one for before he went to Hogwarts and one for afterwards. All his memories were still in a jumble, and most of the time when he tried to sort them they would revert back to their original confusion overnight, but he was definitely making progress.


	9. Chapter 8

                                                                                   

After classes on Friday, Harry met Draco in their classroom and grinned at the sight of the cauldron set up in the corner. Somehow their pranking seemed more official now that they had a cauldron specifically for making the appropriate potions.

“Ready?” Draco asked him. “I’ve put all the ingredients on that desk in the corner. We really need to find some furniture to put in here.”

“But not before we find a way to ward it.” Harry reminded him. “We don’t want to go to all that effort and then have people come in and ruin it.”

Draco frowned. “Warding is really advanced. We won’t start learning about it until sixth year, and then only in theory and only if we take Ancient Runes.”

“Well, not ward it then.” Harry agreed. “Some kind of spell. Like a notice-me-not spell on the door.”

“I thought you were going to find a parselmagic spell?” Draco asked.

“There’s nothing that would work in either of the books I have.” Harry sighed. “And I don’t know where I would find any more books. I need Sirius’ permission to look in the Potter or Black libraries and I haven’t even told him I’m a parselmouth yet. I’m worried that he’ll freak out.”

“Understandable.” Draco nodded.

Harry moved to stand next to the table holding the ingredients and picked up one of the jars. “These are bowtruckle legs, right?”

“Yes.” Draco nodded.

“Did you buy them? Or just take some of the ones we’ve been practising severing charms on in Herbology?” Harry asked curiously.

“I bought them.” Draco answered haughtily. “Who knows where the ones in Herbology have been.”

Harry laughed. “Good point. How about you set up the cauldron and I’ll start slicing the dried frogs.”

It took them a couple of hours to get the potion to a stage where they could leave it for the night and they barely made it to the Great Hall in time for dinner. But it was completely worth it and Harry spent the rest of the evening trying to hide his excited smirk at the prospect of making Lockhart’s teeth fall out.

Despite taking three days to make, the potion wasn’t all that full on and mostly needed to be left simmering away for hours. They checked it a few times on Saturday, making sure to add the crushed Runespoor skin at two in the afternoon and stir it every ten minutes for the two hours after that. Sunday required them to add the crushed peppermint leaves at ten, the diced groot root at two, and then the ground valerian twigs at six, after which the recipe instructed them to leave it to simmer for twenty three hours.

By the time classes were over on Monday, Harry was itching to go check the potion. He almost groaned when Terry challenged him to a game of chess, but grudgingly agreed. He didn’t want this friends to start suspecting all his disappearances.

Luckily, Harry, while having improved significantly, still wasn’t a great challenge to Terry; the game was over within forty minutes, giving Harry ten minutes to get to the classroom before the potion was finished. Draco was already there when he arrived and he was frowning down at the potion.

When Harry got closer he understood why. The potion was supposed to be a light purple colour, instead it was a dark grey.

Harry frowned in disappointment. “What did we do wrong?”

“We don’t know that we did anything wrong yet.” Draco pointed out. “The potion still needs to simmer for another five minutes.”

They watched the time silently until it was five o’clock exactly and then looked back at the still grey potion.

Harry picked up their potion stirrer and tested the consistency of the potion. “It’s runny like it’s supposed to be. So it’s just the colour that’s off. What would make that happen?”

“I don’t know.” Draco’s shoulders slumped. “And we can’t ask Uncle Severus.”

“No, definitely not.” Harry agreed. “We’ll just have to figure it out ourselves.”

“Not tonight.” Draco told him. “I need a break.”

“Yeah,” Harry grimaced. “Me too. I’m so frustrated that I’m tempted to throw the bloody potion against the wall.”

“Except then we’d have to clean it up.” Draco pointed out. “And that wouldn’t be fun.”

“Should we leave the potion like this? Or get rid of it?”

“Leave it.” Draco answered. “We might want to experiment with it tomorrow when we’re trying to figure out what went wrong.”

Harry sighed. “Alright. Do you want to play a game?”

“Chess?” Draco asked, gesturing towards the chessboard that they had left in the room a few weeks previously.

Harry grimaced. “Alright. Terry just got done beating me. I suppose you should get a go too.”

“Well, you won’t beat us with that attitude.” Draco reproved.

“I doubt I’ll manage to beat you when we’re one hundred.” Harry groaned. “I’m rubbish.”

“True.” Draco smirked. “But you’re not as bad as you were last year.”

8-8-8

They were both feeling much more enthusiastic the next day and by the end of their lunch period had managed to figure out at least one mistake they had made (they had forgotten to adjust the temperature when they added the crushed peppermint), but had decided to go through the rest of the recipe as well to make sure that they hadn’t missed anything else.

They finished looking through the recipe at the lunch the next day and then there was nothing more they could do until Friday.

It was frustrating to have to wait, particularly since this was the second time, so Harry decided to ask Neville if he wanted to start learning wandless magic to distract Harry from the wait.

Neville stared at Harry. “Are you serious?”

“Of course.” Harry told him. “We talked about this in the carriage, remember?”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t think you were serious.” Neville told him. “I could barely cast a spell last year.”

“Because you were working with a wand that didn’t work for you.” Harry reminded him. “You said that Ollivander said you’d probably be able to do wandless magic.”

“Yeah, someday!” Neville argued. “Not this year. We’re only second years.”

“Well, I’m going to start teaching myself tomorrow evening.” Harry told him. “And you’re welcome to join me.”

“Where?”

“Um,” Harry frowned, he hadn’t actually thought about that. “How about outside? It’s still pretty warm. I’ll meet you under the big tree near the lake after our last class tomorrow.”

“Alright.” Neville looked nervously. “If you’re sure.”

“Of course I am.” Harry told him, pulling a book out of his bag. “You should probably try to read the first chapter of this. It’s about the basic theory.”

Neville accepted the book and opened it. “I don’t think I know what half of these words mean.”

“Neither did I.” Harry told him. “I read it with a dictionary to help me. Do you have one? I can lend you mine if you like?”

“Gran gave me one.” Neville answered.

“Oh, cool.” Harry nodded as Professor Flitwick called for their attention.

8-8-8

Neville was already under the tree when Harry arrived the next day and he bowed to Harry in greeting.

“Merry meet.”

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded. “Did you manage to get through that chapter?”

“Yeah.” Neville nodded. “I’m not sure I understood it all though. I have never read something so complicated.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” Harry grinned. “I read it last year and it was intense.”

“Some of the other guys thought I was ridiculous for reading it.” Neville admitted. “For a moment I thought that Ron was going to nick it or something.”

Harry grimaced. “Are they still giving you trouble?”

Neville shrugged awkwardly. “They’re not that bad. They’re just really different to me. They like Quidditch, I like plants.”

“I like Quidditch.” Harry pointed out. “And we get along fine.”

Neville just shrugged again.

“Alright.” Harry sat down cross legged where he was standing and gestured for Neville to do the same. “So, you know how you said you meditated with a bonsai tree? Can you only meditate like that?”

“No,” Neville shook his head as he sat, with his legs stretched out in front of him. “Gran made me learn the normal way first. Meditating with my bonsai tree just works better for me.”

“Good.” Harry nodded in relief. “Because we have to start by meditating and then cast a spell.”

“While you’re meditating?” Neville asked in surprise.

“Sort of.” Harry shrugged. “The book wasn’t entirely clear. Basically, when we do wandless magic we’re asking our magic to do what we want – which means that we need to communicate with it, like we do when we meditate. But, obviously, we want to eventually get to a place where we can communicate with our magic without actually meditating.”

Neville’s eyes widened. “That sounds really hard.”

“Well, yes.” Harry admitted. “Everyone would do it if it was easy. And you can only learn to do it if you have strong magic and so don’t need your wand to amplify it, and if you have great control over your magic.”

“And you think I can do it?” Neville asked in disbelief.

“Well, Ollivander does.” Harry reminded him again. “We already know that you’ve got enough power, especially since you managed to force your dad’s wand to work for you,”

“Barely.” Neville muttered.

Harry ignored him. “And you had enough control to make your magic work when it didn’t want to, so you’ve got control as well. You’re probably going to be ahead of me. I’ve never had to use a wand that doesn’t work for me.”

“Yeah, but you glowed!” Neville exclaimed. “I’ve never glowed when I’m meditating.”

Harry grimaced when he remembered all the drama about him glowing the year before. “Yeah, well, maybe we’ll be even then.”

Neville looked unconvinced.

“So, meditating.” Harry said after a few seconds. “Shall we give it a go?”

“Both at the same time?” Neville asked. “Or should we take turns so nobody creeps up on us or anything.”

“Good point.” Harry nodded. “Alright, you go first.”

“No way.” Neville shook his head quickly. “You first.”

Harry nodded. “Alright, I’m going to try and levitate a twig.”

He picked up a nearby twig and placed it directly in front of him, before closing his eyes and beginning his breathing, in, out, in, out, in, out.

It was strange to be meditating without working on his Occlumency, but he soon felt himself sink into his usual meditative state and then found his magic and focused on it. He wasn’t sure what to do after that. The book hadn’t been particularly clear. Did he try and levitate the twig with his eyes shut? Or open his eyes and risk jolting himself out of his meditating?

He tried to picture the twig in front of him and then imagined it floating. There was no reaction from Neville, so he presumed it hadn’t worked. He focussed on his magic again and then tried to concentrate on it and making the twig float – still no reaction from Neville.

Next Harry tried to focus on the lessons Snape had given him the year before on how to make his magic submit. Maybe that was what he needed to do, force his magic to do it, rather than just hope it levitated the twig because he was thinking about it happening.

In a way it wasn’t a new concept to him, he still had to make his magic submit every time he meditated, but that was preventing his magic do something instead of making his magic do something.

Harry concentrated on his magic again, though this time he focused on forcing his magic to obey. It was hard, and he found it hard to concentrate on the task, but eventually he heard an excited cry from Neville.

“Harry, you did it!”

Neville’s cry jolted Harry out of his meditative state, but he didn’t mind. He had done it!

Harry opened his eyes and grinned at his friend who was sitting with his back against the tree. “How long did it take me?”

“Forty five minutes.” Neville told him. “It looked like hard work, you kept frowning.”

“It was hard.” Harry told him. “Your turn.”

“Alright.” Neville grimaced, but folded his hands on his lap and closed his eyes.

Harry watched Neville attentively for a few minutes, but then pulled some parchment and a quill out of his bag and started writing a list of the things he had learnt. Once he had done that, he wrote a second list of the things that Snape had taught him the year before – it would be helpful for Neville.

An hour after Neville had closed his eyes, he opened them with a sigh. “I can’t do it.”

“Yet.” Harry added quickly. “You can’t do it yet. I wrote you a list of things that worked for me, as well as a list of things that Professor Snape taught me last year.”

“Professor Snape taught you about this stuff?” Neville asked in horror. “Why?”

“Because I glowed.” Harry sighed. “He taught me not to glow.” He handed Neville the two lists. “Do you want to do this again next week?”

“Really?” Neville looked surprise. “But I sucked.”

“Neville, it’s wandless magic.” Harry told him. “Most adult wizards can’t do it. You just need to practise.”

“You managed it.” Neville grumbled.

“Yeah.” Harry gave his friend an apologetic look. “But I had all the knowledge from the lessons with Professor Snape, as well as practise making my magic do what I want.”

Neville considered that for a while, before nodding slowly. “Alright. Next Thursday?”

“Sounds good.” Harry agreed.

“Can I keep the book until then?” Neville asked. “I’ll try and read some more this weekend.”

“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Keep it as long as you need.”

8-8-8

The next day was Friday, so after classes Harry and Draco met in the classroom to start the potion again. Harry really hoped they got it right this time, he wasn’t sure that he would be willing to try the potion a third time and they definitely didn’t have enough ingredients for it.

It was easier to make the potion the second time and, by the time Monday came around again, Harry was alternating between being sure that the potion would work and trying not to get his hopes up.

They had potions class during their last period on Monday and Professor Snape spent the entire class time lecturing them on the theory behind antidote potions. It was unusual for Snape to actually take the time to teach them the theory, rather than expecting them to have read the textbook, and Harry was glad that he had. A lot of Snape’s lecture wasn’t in the textbook and was really fascinating. Harry had never really considered what processes potion masters went through to invent new antidotes. Some of it was a bit complicated though, especially when Snape started talking about Golpalott’s Third Law – though Snape did admit that they wouldn’t really need to know that unless they took NEWT level potions.

After the bell had rung, Harry put the rolls of parchment that contained his notes in his bag, along with his quill and ink bottle, and followed the other Ravenclaws out of the classroom.

“So much information.” Michael groaned as he shook out his right hand. “My hand hurts.”

“Did anyone understand that bit about that guy’s third law?” Anthony asked.

“Not even slightly.” Padma sighed. “It sounded like gobbledygook to me.”

“Did you get it, Harry?” Terry asked curiously. “And can I copy your notes sometime? I think you took three times as many as I did.”

“Sort of.” Harry grimaced. “I got a bit lost halfway through though. I think I’ll add it to my list of things to look up.”

Anthony sneered at him. “You mean there’s something you don’t know?”

Harry ignored him. “Terry, can you take my bag up to the dorms? I’m meeting Draco.”

“Didn’t you meet with him at lunch?” Terry asked as he accepted Harry’s bag.

“We’re working on our Potions’ assignment.” Harry answered. “It’s due at the end of the week.”

“Oh, right.” Terry nodded. “Snape paired the two of you up – better you than me. I’m just glad that I got Nott. He’s pretty decent, for a Slytherin.”

“Not that I’ve actually seen you two do any work together.” Harry pointed out.

Terry grinned. “We agreed to split the assignment up and work separately. It works for us.”

Harry looked down at his watch. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you all at dinner.”

It only took him a few minutes to get to his and Draco’s classroom and he even managed to beat Draco there.

Harry made his way towards the potion and grinned when saw that it was the light purple colour that it was supposed to be.

“Did it work?” Draco asked as he came into the room.

“Yes!” Harry beamed at him. “Look it’s light purple.”

“We need to take it off the fire in one minute.” Draco said as he came to stand beside Harry.

They both stared at the potion as the seconds counted down and then, with great excitement, lifted the cauldron off the fire and onto the floor.

“We did it!” Harry exclaimed excitedly.

“Smashing!” Draco beamed. “Do you think your elf could get it into Lockhart’s drink tonight?”

Harry rubbed his hands together excitedly. “Good idea. I should go ask Stompy.”

“Can’t you just call him?” Draco asked haughtily.

“Maybe.” Harry answered unsurely. “Um, Stompy? Can you hear me?”

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed loudly, but a few seconds later Stompy appeared in front of them with a pop.

“Master Harry Potter be calling Stompy?” The house elf asked questioningly.

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Thanks for answering.”

“Stompy is being happy to serve Master Harry Potter, sir.” Stompy beamed at him.

“You know that thing we talked about a few weeks ago?” Harry asked him. “With the potion?”

Stompy gave Draco a sideways glance before nodding. “Yes, Stompy is remembering.”

“Could you do it tonight please?” Harry grinned. “We’ve made the potion. See?”

Stompy peered over the sides of the cauldron at the purple potion. “Yes, Stompy can be putting potion in Professor Lockyhart’s drink tonight. How much is Stompy needing to use?”

“Just one spoonful.” Harry answered. “Do you need to us to give it to you in a vial?”

Stompy shook his head. “No, Stompy is doing it.” He clicked his fingers and an empty potion vial appeared in his hand, another click of his fingers and he was holding a potion pourer in his other hand.

Harry watched the process in awe. It was like watching the goblins do magic. He couldn’t wait to get better at wandless magic.

Once Stompy was gone, vial of potion in hand, Draco turned to Harry with an excited grin. “This is going to be smashing!”

“Definitely!” Harry agreed. “What are we going to do with the rest of the potion though?”

“How long did the book said it could be stored?” Draco asked.

“Nine months.” Harry answered. “Do you want to keep it?”

“At least some of it.” Draco nodded. “We might want to use it again.”

“Where will we get the potion vials though?” Harry asked. “There must be twenty vials worth in there.”

Draco frowned in thought. “Maybe we could borrow some off Uncle Severus?”

“Don’t you think he might get a bit suspicious?” Harry asked.

“Or we could buy some by owl.” Draco suggested. “We can cover the cauldron for a few days until they arrive.”

“Good idea.” Harry grinned as he turned back to the potion. “Oh, this is going to be brilliant!”

“Definitely!”


	10. Chapter 9

Harry paused for a moment outside the Great Hall to try and get a hold of his excitement. He didn’t want his friends, or anyone else for that matter, to notice that he was excited and link it to the prank that he and Draco were playing on Lockhart.

He clenched his teeth and schooled his face to its normal expression, before walking into the hall and making his way towards the Ravenclaw table. His dorm mates were already there, along with half of the girls in his year, and Harry slid into the seat beside Michael.

“There is no way that the Holyhead Harpies are going to beat the Wigtown Wanderers next week.” Michael was telling Terry. “No matter how good of a keeper your sister is.”

“You willing to put money on that?” Terry asked him with a grin. “Because I’ll put five galleons on my sister winning.”

“Five galleons?” Michael exclaimed. “Really? Come on, Terry! There’s supporting your sister and then there’s being an idiot.”

“So that’s a no then?” Terry questioned.

“Oh no,” Michael shook his head. “I’ll take your money! And when I do, I’ll laugh in your face!”

Harry grinned at their antics before turning to Rodney who was sitting across from him. “How are your models of Mercury and Venus going for Astronomy?”

Rodney grinned. “Great. I’m almost done. I just need to paint them now. How about you?”

“My Mercury’s oval shaped.” Harry groaned. “And if I do another layer of clay it’s going to be too big.”

Rodney grimaced sympathetically. “So you’re going to have to shave some off it?”

“I’ve already done that!” Harry sighed. “That’s how it got so oval in the first place – I suck at this.”

“Well, I guess there’s a first time for everything.” Anthony snarked nastily from beside Rodney.

Harry considering making a face at the other boy, but decided to just ignore him. Anthony seemed to become more of a jerk every day.

The next ten minutes felt like the longest ten minutes of Harry’s life. It hard knowing that Lockhart’s teeth could start falling out any moment, but having no way of knowing when it was going to happen.

It was halfway through dinner that it happened. The prank in itself wasn’t particularly dramatic for an audience, after all it was hard to see someone’s teeth falling out from a distance, but Lockhart’s reaction was dramatic enough to be rewarding.

Lockhart’s initial shriek drew the entire hall’s attention and Harry watched in amusement as Lockhart became increasingly upset as more and more of his teeth dropped out of his mouth. The other professors didn’t seem to know how to react, but Madame Pomfrey stood up and quickly made her way over to Lockhart.

“What’s happening?” Sue Li asked from a couple of places to Harry’s left. “Why would his teeth be falling out?”

It took exactly a minute for all of Lockhart’s teeth to fall out, just as the potion description had promised.

“My tee!” Lockhart shrieked again, though this time his lack of teeth made him hard to understand.

At that moment, orange words appeared on the wall above Lockhart.

“This prank was brought to you by The Marauders’ Apprentices.” Michael read aloud as Lockhart ran out of the Hall. “I should have known it would be them again. This is like the hair thing all over again.”

“It’s brilliant!” Terry grinned. “Look at Lockhart. He won’t be winning any Most-Charming-Smile awards without any teeth.”

“Who do you think the marauders’ apprentices are?” Terry asked.

“I don’t even know who they marauders are, let alone who their apprentices are.” Michael answered him.

“It’s probably the Weasley twins.” Anthony said pompously.

“I don’t think so.” Rodney shook his head. “My sister is friends with them and she says it wasn’t them.”

“What do you think, Harry?” Terry asked.

Harry forced himself to shrug casually. “No idea. It’s pretty cool though. I wonder how they did it.”

“Pretty cool?” Michael asked disbelievingly. “It’s amazing! I wonder what they’ll do next.”

“Attention please!” Dumbledore’s amplified voice rang through the hall. “I do not know who the Marauders’ Apprentices are, but whoever you are you should be are that attacks on Hogwarts’ Professors will not be tolerated. Any further attacks on Professors will result in the perpetrators immediate expulsion.”

“Attacks on Professors?” Michael muttered under his breath. “That’s a bit of an over exaggeration isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed lightly, though his stomach was churning nervously. “Normally Dumbledore has a sense of humour.”

9-9-9

“Did you hear him?” Draco asked uneasily the next day. “Dumbledore said he’d expel us! Father would be furious.”

“He’s not going to catch us.” Harry reassured him. “Sirius said that Dumbledore threatened that tons of times when he and my dad were pranking at Hogwarts.”

“But what if he does?” Draco persisted. “Maybe we should stop, at least stop pranking professors.”

“We can’t stop now!” Harry argued. “Lockhart’s an awful professor, if we don’t get rid of him we’re not going to learn anything this year.”

“Well, you might learn how to be a better actor.” Draco smirked.

“Shut up.” Harry groaned. “Just because you don’t have to pretend to be a different creature every single class.”

“Lockhart wouldn’t dare.” Draco said smugly. “If father heard that a professor was making me pretend to be a werewolf…”

Harry grimaced, how we wished he had a dad who would stand up for him. “Yes, well, lucky for some.”

“Well, at least you don’t have to have to worry about your dad’s reaction if you get expelled.” Draco pointed out.

“True.” Harry grinned. “But we won’t get expelled! I promise.”

“How do you know Stompy won’t tell Dumbledore it was us?” Draco asked.

“He promised he wouldn’t.” Harry told him.

“So?” Draco asked. “He’s a house elf!”

“What does that matter?” Harry asked. “Him being a house elf doesn’t mean we can’t trust him.”

“You wouldn’t be saying that if you’d met Dobby.” Draco told him.

“You mean your family’s really, uh, excitable elf?” Harry asked with a small grin.

“I think the word you’re looking for is crazy.” Draco said. “He hates us.”

“Why don’t you just set him free then?” Harry asked.

“On purpose?” Draco asked in obvious horror. “I mean, sure he’s crazy, but he doesn’t deserve that!”

Harry shrugged. The whole house elves thing still confused him. His muggle upbringing told him that it was slavery and wrong, but the one time he’d mentioned freeing house elves to Stompy, his little house elf friend had been horrified.

“Don’t shrug.” Draco reprimanded him. “What would my mother say?”

Harry winced as he imagined Cousin Narcissa’s disapproving cough. “So, are we going to prank Lockhart again?”

Draco looked worried. “Dumbledore said…”

“He won’t catch us.” Harry assured him. “And even if he does, do you really think your father will let Dumbledore expel you?”

Draco still didn’t look convinced.

“We don’t even have to prank Lockhart directly.” Harry added. “We could prank his office or something.”

Draco’s eyes widened in interest. “What were you thinking?”

“We could replace his Witch Weekly Awards with ones that say ‘Worst Professor Ever’.” Harry suggested.

“What if we put snakes in his office,” Draco asked. “You could give them instructions to hide and then come out every hour or something.”

Harry grinned. “That sounds awesome! But what if he kills them? I don’t want to send the snakes to their death.”

Draco snorted. “Lockhart’s incompetent. He couldn’t kill a worm.”

Harry laughed. “True.”

9-9-9

The rest of week went by quickly. Harry spent most of the week trying to get his Astronomy models finished on Friday. As far as he was concerned it was the hardest assignment he’d ever been given and he was horrified at the thought that he would be required to repeat the assignment, except with different planets, every month for the rest of term.

He knew his dorm mates were finding his struggle with the assignment amusing, though, with the exception of Anthony, they were nice about it. Rodney even spent Tuesday evening helping him to get his planets to approximately the right shape and size. He certainly wouldn’t be earning an Outstanding for them, but he would probably manage to get an Exceeds Expectations.

He and Draco spent their lunchtimes studying for their joint potion experiment on potion antidotes, brainstorming different ways they could prank Lockhart’s office or classroom, and ranting about how Dumbledore’s muggle-loving ruined Hallows Eve (though that was mostly just Draco).

On Thursday afternoon, Harry met Neville under the big tree by the lake to practise wandless magic again.

“Here’s your book.” Neville said as they sat down.

“Did you finish it?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Yeah.” Neville shrugged uncomfortably. “Ron started comparing me to Granger.”

“Because you read a single book?” Harry asked. “Really?”

“I think it was probably the fact that I was using a dictionary to read it.” Neville commented.

Harry still thought it was pretty stupid. Neville was nothing like Granger! Not that he had anything against the girl, even if she had been glaring at him since she found out that he’d beaten her for top of their year.

“Thanks for the notes you took.” Neville added. “They were really helpful when I was practising.”

“You practised?” Harry was suddenly feeling bad that he hadn’t even practised once.

“Sorry, wasn’t I supposed to?” Neville asked quickly.

“No, it’s fine.” Harry answered just as quickly. “It’s just that I didn’t, I’ve been really busy with other stuff.”

“Oh.” Neville was looking nervous. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise.” Harry told him. “It’s great that you practised. Do you want to go first then?”

Neville smiled shyly. “Alright.”

Harry watched as Neville closed his eyes and began his breathing patterns. Why hadn’t he thought to practise? It was because he was still practising Occlumency every morning, and would be for the foreseeable future, he just hadn’t had time. Maybe he should start meditating at night before he went to sleep as well. That way he could practise his Occlumency in the morning and his wandless magic at night.

Watching Neville meditate was really boring and Harry ended up using the time to practise one of the new exercises Takashi had been teaching him during their daily exercise routine. Takashi called them sit-ups and they were apparently good for Quidditch.

It took Neville thirty two minutes to float the twig in front of him and Harry whooped in congratulations.

“You did it, Neville!”

It took Neville a few seconds to open his eyes, but when he did he grinned. “Really?”

“Yeah!” Harry nodded. “You had the twig hovering in front of your nose.”

“I can do wandless magic!” Neville exclaimed excitedly. “Nobody will be able to call me a squib again.”

“Certainly not.”

Neville was beaming. “How long did it take me?”

“Thirty two minutes.” Harry told him.

“Seriously?” Neville stared at him in shock. “But that’s faster than you.”

Harry ignored the jealous twinge in his stomach. Neville deserved this – he’d been practising. “Yeah, congrats.”

“Your turn now.” Neville told him.

Harry nodded in agreement and adjusted his position so that he was sitting with his legs crossed, before closing his eyes and starting his breathing. In, out, in, out, in…

Once Harry could see his magic, he tried to remember exactly what he had done to make it work the time before. He had concentrated on his magic, and then manipulated it so that it was forced to float the twig. He tried to duplicate the feeling, but his magic was being stubborn.

It took him a few more tries before something changed, but this time Harry knew that he’d levitated the twig even more he heard Neville’s exclamation.

Harry concentrated on lowering it again, before pulling himself out of his meditation and opening his eyes.

“How long did I take?” He asked Neville.

“Eighteen minutes!” Neville exclaimed. “That was amazing!”

Harry grinned in satisfaction. “Thanks. Do you want to try again?”

“Are you sure?” Neville asked. “I took almost twice as much time as you, maybe you should have another turn.”

“No, you go.” Harry argued. “We should take turns.”

Neville grinned happily at him before sitting up straighter and closing his eyes. Twenty eight minutes later the twig in front of Neville floated into the air.

“Good job!” Harry grinned. “That was four minutes faster.”

“Really?” Neville looked thrilled. “I’m getting better!”

“Of course you are.” Harry told him. “Practise makes perfect.”

Harry tried again after that, but only managed to shave a minute off his time. It was slightly frustrating, but at the same time he and Neville had already accomplished what many adult wizards couldn’t.

“I can’t imagine doing it without meditating.” Neville commented as they walked back up to the castle for dinner. “How would I even communicate with my magic?”

“Well, we sort of already communicate with our magic when we use ours wands.” Harry pointed out. “This will just be different.”

“And harder!” Neville added. “It’s exhausting. I feel like I’ve run up multiple flights of stairs or something.”

Harry looked at his friend in surprise. He didn’t feel tired at all, though he had spent less time trying than Neville had. He wondered whether it was because of the running he did with Takashi. When Takashi had first invited him to go running, he’d told Harry that it would affect his magical stamina – maybe this was what he’d meant.

9-9-9

The next morning, while he and Takashi were running around the lake, Harry brought up the subject.

“You are learning wandless magic?” Takashi asked in surprise.

“Yes.” Harry answered. “Neville Longbottom and I both are. But he finds it more exhausting than I do. Is that because of our runs?”

“I am sure that is at least part of it.” Takashi told him. “It could also be that your magic is stronger than his.”

“Oh.” Harry considered that. “Could I invite him to come running with us? We’d have to start running around the Quidditch pitch again.”

“Certainly.” Takashi agreed easily. “Could I join your wandless magic sessions?”

Harry looked at him in surprise. He’d never considered that his older friend would be interested in joining. “Really?”

“Yes.” Takashi confirmed.

“Sure.” Harry agreed quickly, before thinking of Neville. “Actually, I should probably ask Neville if it’s alright. I’m sure it will be fine though.”

“Thank you.”

“I can give you a book to start reading though.” Harry commented. “Unless you’ve already read it. Did you read my book on wandless magic?”

“Unfortunately not.” Takashi admitted. “I meant to, but then I forgot.”

“I know the feeling.” Harry laughed. “There are just so many books to read.”

Harry had History of Magic with the Gryffindors first and he took the opportunity to discuss the idea with Neville.

“Running?” Neville asked in obvious horror. “You want me to go running?”

“It helps increase your magical stamina.” Harry told him. “It’ll make our Thursday stuff less tiring for you.”

“I’ll be so slow.” Neville pointed out. “I’ll never keep up with you.”

“We’ll run around the Quidditch Pitch.” Harry explained. “That way we can all go at our own speeds.”

“Who else will be there?” Neville asked nervously.

“Just you, me, and Takashi Nado.” Harry told him. “He’s a fifth year. He’s actually asked if he can join us Thursdays, but I told him I’d ask you first.”

Neville looked surprised. “But he’s a fifth year!”

“I know.” Harry was surprised too. He’d always presumed that the older boy could already do some wandless magic – he certainly meditated enough.

“And he wants to join us?” Neville asked anxiously.

“He doesn’t have to if you don’t want him to.” Harry told him.

“N-no,” Neville stuttered slightly. “It’s alright. He should be able to come if he wants.”

“Smashing.” Harry grinned at him. “And you’ll come running with us.”

Neville looked resigned. “Alright.”

9-9-9

The next day was a Saturday and also Halloween. When Harry and Takashi arrived at the Quidditch Pitch for their run, Neville was already there looking very nervous. They started running soon after and by the end of it, Harry was feeling very sorry for Neville. The boy seemed to be even more unfit than Harry had been when he had started running the year before and by the end of it he was covered in sweat and was so puffed he could barely breath.

Harry was impressed at Neville’s commitment though, he’d certainly given it his all.

“Same time tomorrow?” Takashi asked Neville as they made their way to the changing rooms to shower and change.

Neville was too puffed to do anything but nod.

Once they were clean and dressed, Harry told the others to go on without him and went to sit by the lake for a while to think about his parents.

He didn’t think about them very often, except to miss their absence whenever one of his friends mentioned their own parents – but even then it was more the concept of parents that he missed rather than his mum and dad. He didn’t remember them at all, which he supposed was another thing to be sad about. He hadn’t even known that his parents died on Halloween until Sirius had mentioned it in his last letter.

He wondered what it would have been like to grow up with parents. Would they have loved him like the Malfoys loved Draco? He hoped so. They certainly couldn’t have been any worse than the Dursleys.

Harry sighed as he stared out across the lake. He felt guilty about how little he felt about the fact that his parents were dead. Was it bad that he wasn’t crying about it? Or did his lack of memories about them make it alright?

He sat in the same spot for a few more minutes before standing up and making his way back into the castle. There was no point in trying to make himself sad just because it was the day his parents had died.

9-9-9

The Halloween Feast was the same as it had been the year before, centred entirely on pumpkins and lollies. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table when he entered the Great Hall and was amused to see Draco sneering at the pumpkin centre piece in front of him. Most of the Slytherins were looking similarly disgusted at the muggle decorations.

Lockhart was sitting at the Head Table for the first time since the prank on Monday night and Harry was amused to see that the professor was looking twitchy. He also seemed to checking everything he ate and drank for potions. It gave Harry hope that their next prank might be the one that chased Lockhart from the castle.

When dinner was over, and Harry had finished his third serving of Treacle Tart, he and his year mates joined the crowd of students heading back to their common rooms.

They were only halfway to Ravenclaw Tower when a girl ahead of them screamed loudly and the students in front of them stopped abruptly. Harry winced as he almost walked into the girl in front of him.

Harry stood on his tiptoes and tried to see over the students ahead of them, but there were too many people in front of him and he couldn’t see anything. He considered turning around and taking a different route to the Tower, but in the end his curiosity won out. What was happening?

A couple of minutes passed and the students around him became increasingly restless and annoyed. A couple of stories had been passed back through the crowd and none of them seemed remotely plausible. Why would graffiti on the wall create such a traffic jam? And why would anyone decide to kill Mrs. Norris? Harry figured that one was just someone’s wishful thinking.

After a few more minutes the crowd started moving again and Harry was surprised to eventually walk through a puddle and see a piece of graffiti on the wall. Why all the fuss about a bit of graffiti and a puddle?

The graffiti was really weird too.

‘The chamber of secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.’

9-9-9

 


	11. Chapter 10

The Ravenclaw Tower was abuzz with gossip that night and Harry soon discovered that the rumour that Mrs. Norris had been killed did have some truth to it after all – apparently she’d been petrified of all things.

Harry and his dorm mates hung around the common room long enough to hear the story from the few Ravenclaws who had actually seen Mrs. Norris’ body, before retreating to their dorm room for a game of Exploding Snap.

“Good riddance, I reckon.” Michael commented as he got the deck out of his trunk.

“That’s a bit harsh.” Rodney told him. “She’s just a cat.”

“A mean tempered eyesore of a cat.” Michael returned, sitting down next to Harry.

“She was pretty awful.” Terry agreed.

“Is.” Rodney corrected. “She’s not dead, just petrified.”

“Who would bother to go to all that effort just for a cat?” Harry asked. “How does someone even get petrified?”

“No idea.” Michael answered as he began dealing out the cards.

“One of the books I read as a kid had a gorgon who could petrify people.” Rodney told them.

“A gorgon?” Harry frowned. “What’s that?”

“They’re female creatures that have venomous snakes for hair.” Anthony answered scornfully. “And you call yourself a genius.”

“I’ve never called myself a genius.” Harry defended in annoyance. “Not once.”

“No, you just lord your Outstandings around like the swot you are.” Anthony snapped.

Harry glared at him. “Name one time when I’ve bragged about my marks.”

Anthony just sneered at him as he picked up his pile of cards.

“Anyway,” Terry said after a few seconds of awkward silence. “Rodney, your start.”

They played the first round in silence and Harry couldn’t help but feel guilty that he and Anthony didn’t get along. It wasn’t that he wanted to be friends with Anthony, but he felt sorry for the other boys who had to put up with Anthony being a jerk just because Harry was around.

“So, I heard back from Claessens Chocolat.” Michael told them after a few minutes

Harry looked at his friend in confusion. “What?”

“What do you mean, what?” Michael asked in mock outrage. “You can’t have already forgotten the brilliantness of that hot chocolate I bought you guys at the beginning of the year.”

“Oh,” Harry nodded. “The chocolate place.”

“What did they say?” Rodney asked eagerly. “Will they let us buy it by owl?”

“Definitely.” Michael grinned. “Though we’ll have to buy a reusable status box off them first.”

“Fair enough.” Terry nodded. “I imagine they’d have a lot of trouble with the chocolate melting in transit otherwise.”

“Yeah.” Michael agreed. “The box is pretty expensive, but I thought maybe if we all went in for it together…”

“Sounds good to me.” Harry answered after the other boy trailed off.

“Of course.” Anthony sneered. “Why don’t you just buy the whole company?”

“Come on, Anthony!” Rodney elbowed the other boy. “Can’t we just hang out?”

“Do we maybe want to buy two boxes?” Terry suggested. “One to transport the chocolate in and one to store it in.”

“If we’re going to buy a second box, we should buy one from a trunk store or something.” Harry pointed out. “It’ll be cheaper that way.”

“Good point.” Terry nodded.

“I don’t think we’ll need a second box though.” Rodney commented. “We can just store the chocolate in the same box we use to buy it.”

“Well that depends,” Terry grinned. “Are we just buying the chocolate to use it ourselves? Or are we going to sell it? Because if we’re going to sell it, we might want to send away for new orders a lot.”

“I think we would need a prefect’s permission to sell it.” Michael cautioned.

“Harry can ask Takashi.” Terry replied quickly. “Right, Harry?”

“Sure, if you want.” Harry agreed. “But I don’t have time to get involved with actually selling the chocolate, so you’ll have to do the rest without me sorry.”

Terry looked a bit disappointed, but quickly looked around to the other boys. “What about you guys?”

“I’m keen.” Rodney nodded. “Though I won’t be able to put up much money to buy the chocolates.”

“I’m the same.” Michael answered. “It’s an awesome idea though.”

“Anthony?” Terry asked eagerly.

Anthony nodded. “We should do it properly though. Like write a business proposal and stuff.”

Rodney grimaced. “A business proposal?”

“Yes.” Anthony answered firmly. “We need to decide how much we’re going to sell them for, and whether or not it will make a profit. And we need to agree on how we’re going to split the funds.”

Terry sighed. “Take all the fun out of it why don’t you.”

“He’s right.” Harry told them. “There’s no point in going to all the effort to get it started if it’s not going to work.”

“And we need to make sure we’ve got enough money too.” Anthony added.

“I’m happy to be a silent partner if you want.” Harry offered. “I might not have the time, but I don’t mind providing some of the capital.”

“Thanks!” Terry told him with a grin, while Anthony pulled a face.

“So do we want to start writing the proposal now? Since we’re clearly not in the mood to concentrate on the game?” Michael asked, gesturing to the abandoned cards in front of them.

“Sure.” Rodney agreed. “But I’ve never actually written anything like this before. I’ve never even seen a business proposal.”

“Me neither.” Terry told him. “And I don’t think Michael has either.”

Michael shook his head in agreement.

“I have.” Anthony told them haughtily. “My dad writes them all the time.”

“Cool.” Terry smiled. “Do you have any experience with business proposals, Harry?”

“Some.” Harry nodded. “I spent six days over the summer at Gringotts having the Potter Account Manager and Cousin Narcissa explain how everything works.”

Rodney grimaced. “That sounds awful!”

“No, it was really interesting.” Harry grinned.

“So can you help us write the proposal?” Terry asked. “Between you and Anthony it should be easy.”

Anthony didn’t look happy. “I thought you said you didn’t have time?”

Harry sighed, if he agreed to help he’d just annoy Anthony. “How about you guys write it and, if you decide you want me as a silent partner, I’ll have a look over your proposal.”

“Alright.” Terry agreed. “Do you mind if we start writing it now?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “Go ahead. I’ll go read a book.”

“Are you sure?” Rodney asked. “We’d planned to all hang out tonight.”

“It’s fine.” Harry smiled as he stood up. “You know me, I’ve always got a long list of books that I want to read. Have fun.”

“You too.” Terry grinned. “Enjoy your book.”

Harry made his way towards his bed, before picking up his new book on Quidditch strategies that had arrived via owl the day before. He climbed onto his bed and then picked up his pillow so he could put it against the headboard.

The sight of Sarko and Sativa hiding under his pillow made his pause. The two snakes hissed in shock at the removal of their shelter.

Harry quickly looked back to the other boys to check whether they had heard anything, before drawing the curtains around his bed to give him and the snakes some privacy.

: _What are you doing?:_ Harry asked curiously.

 _:The snake came back!:_ Sarko told him, his body tightening around Sativa.

: _You mean the big snake?:_ Harry asked in surprise. : _When?:_

: _We heard it and came here to hide:_ Sativa ignored his question. : _It is sooo big!:_

Harry’s eyes narrowed in thought. What were the chances that Filch’s cat would be petrified on the same night that Sarko and Savita heard the large snake again?

: _Are you guys alright?:_ Harry asked in concern.

 _:We will be when you return our soft rock:_ Sarko snapped in annoyance.

: _Alright:_ Harry agreed. _:Sorry for disturbing you:_

He placed his pillow over the snakes again, before opening his curtains again and moving to his trunk.

“You alright there, Harry?” Terry asked.

“Yeah,” Harry nodded absently. “I just remembered something.”

He found the piece of parchment that contained his notes about the large snakes quickly and then sat at his desk to look it over.

There was the naga, a Thai water snake that breathed fireballs, the sepia, an African snake that had a stinger on its tail and killed people with its eyes, and the basilisk, a European snake that killed people with its eyes and had impenetrable scales. None of them petrified things, at least not that the book he’d read talked about.

Harry picked up the quill that was lying on his desk and opened his ink pot so he could dip it in. Then he listed the things Sarko and Sativa had told him about the big snake the first time they had heard it.

It was big, too big to fit in his dorm room, and hungry, and a girl. Which didn’t really help at all. Any creature could be hungry if it didn’t eat, most could be girls, and the naga, sepia and basilisk could all grow too big to fit in his dorm room. Maybe there was another kind of large snake that the book hadn’t mentioned that petrified people?

There was also the gorgon to consider. Anthony had said that they were always girls. Harry wondered whether a creature with multiple snakes for hair would sound like a big snake to Sarko and Sativa. It wasn’t as though his two snakes had actually seen the big one.

Harry sighed, all he was doing was making random guesses.

10-10-10

The next day was Sunday and, after lunch, Harry met Draco in their classroom. The reason they were meeting was to decide what prank to pull on Lockhart next, but Harry told Draco about what his snakes had told him first.

“So you think that the big snake that your snakes are hearing is what petrified Mrs. Norris?” Draco asked contemplatively when Harry had finished his explanation.

“Yes, or at least I think it’s a possibility.” Harry nodded. “What are the chances of a cat being attacked in the castle on the same night that Sarko and Sativa hear a big snake?”

“It would make sense.” Draco acknowledged. “The Chamber of Secrets was supposedly built by Slytherin.”

“What?” Harry leaned forward in interest. “You mean the Chamber of Secrets from the graffiti last night?”

“That wasn’t graffiti!” Draco looked scandalised. “It was a message.”

Harry didn’t see why it couldn’t be both. “So what’s the Chamber of Secrets?”

Draco’s eyes gleamed in excitement. “All the upperclassmen were talking about it last night. Apparently Salazar Slytherin built a secret chamber somewhere in the school and put a monster in it. Then Slytherin sealed up the chamber so that only his heir could open it and use the monster to kill all the mudb, uh, muggleborns.”

Harry narrowed his eyes disapprovingly at his cousin’s slip.

“It’s habit.” Draco defended.

“So when the message said, ‘enemies of the heir, beware’, it was talking about muggleborns?” Harry asked.

“Presumably.” Draco agreed. “It seems weird that Slytherin’s heir would bother petrifying a cat though. I would think that they’d be more concerned with killing off muggleborns.”

Harry looked at his cousin suspiciously. “You don’t actually agree with Slytherin do you? That all the muggleborns should be killed?”

“Of course not.” Draco looked hurt. “I mean sure, I don’t like the way they come and try and change everything. Did you see the decorations last night? There wasn’t a single traditional Hallow’s Eve decoration in the entire hall! But that doesn’t mean I want them dead, not even Granger.”

“Sorry.” Harry told him. “I don’t know why I asked you that.”

“Because you’re an idiot.” Draco told him haughtily. “But I forgive you.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “So if the Chamber of the Secrets was built by Slytherin, then it would make sense that the monster is a snake right?”

“That’s what I said at the beginning of our conversation.” Draco pointed out. “Slytherin was a parselmouth, you know.”

Harry shook his head. “No I didn’t. The problem is that I researched the snakes that were big enough to be one that Sarko and Sativa heard and none of them petrify people.”

“Maybe cats react differently to them?” Draco suggested.

“I think we should tell your mother.” Harry suggested.

“She’ll want to know how we know it’s a snake.” Draco warned. “You’re going to have to tell her about being a parselmouth.”

Harry grimaced. “Do you think it would be safe to do that in a letter? What if someone else reads it?”

“I don’t see how else we can tell her.” Draco pointed out. “I’m not going to see her and father until Christmas break.”

“Alright.” Harry sighed, reaching into his bag for parchment and a quill.

Draco sneered as he pulled out the parchment. “You can’t use that to write a letter to mother! What happened to the parchment mother gave you last year?”

“It’s in my dorm.” Harry answered. “How about we decide what to write on this parchment and then I can copy it onto the other parchment before I send it. The Ravenclaw Tower is sort of on the way to the owlery anyway.”

It took them fifteen minutes to decide exactly what to write in the letter. Harry was glad that they had written it on the cheap parchment first since they ended up crossing lots of parts out. After the letter was finished, Harry slipped it into his bag and put away his quill.

“Are we still going to prank Lockhart?” Draco asked.

“Why wouldn’t we?” Harry questioned. “It’s not like anyone was killed or anything.”

“Maybe we could use it.” Draco smirked. “Make Lockhart think that monster is out to get him.”

Harry’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “How though?”

“I don’t know.” Draco admitted.

Harry considered it for a while. “Could we write a message on his wall, pretending to be the heir?”

“But why would Slytherin’s heir go after Lockhart?” Draco asked. “He’s a pureblood.”

“Why would Slytherin’s heir go after Mrs. Norris?” Harry retorted. “She’s a cat.”

Draco paused. “Touché.”

“The problem with pretending to the heir is that we wouldn’t be able to sign our prank.” Harry considered.

“Well not unless we wanted people to think we were the heir of Slytherin.” Draco smirked.

“Which we don’t.” Harry said firmly. “Maybe we should just go back to our original plans.”

“But our original plans were lame!” Draco complained.

“I don’t think we need them to be particularly exciting.” Harry told him. “Did you see Lockhart last night and this morning? He’s totally paranoid.”

“We don’t want to be lame though.” Draco pointed out. “Our other two pranks have been smashing.”

“Maybe we should have another look through that Grimoire that Sirius sent me.” Harry considered.

“Alright.” Draco agreed. “Do you have it with you?”

“It’s in my trunk.” Harry sighed. “What time is it?”

Draco pulled out his wand. “Tempus, it’s only two o’clock.”

“I’ll go get it then.” Harry decided standing up. “I’ll be right back.”

“Bring back some writing paper too.” Draco ordered. “You can write out the letter to mother while I look at the Grimoire.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Alright.”

It only took five minutes for Harry to run up to the Ravenclaw Tower and then he walked swiftly through the common room to get to his dorm. He pushed the door open and was surprised to see all his dorm mates sitting around on the floor with pieces of parchment laid out in front of them. They looked just as surprised to see him.

“I thought you were hanging out with Malfoy this afternoon?” Terry asked with the same hint of disapproval that he always had when talking about Draco.

Harry opened the book section of his trunk and searched for the Grimoire. It wasn’t particularly hard to find since he had lent most of his books to the Ravenclaw Library which meant that they were sitting on the shelves in the common room rather than being in his trunk. Once he found it, he quickly put it in his bag so none of the others would see it.

“I am.” Harry answered Terry. “I just forgot something. What are you guys doing?”

“We’re writing up the business plan for selling chocolate.” Terry sighed. “It’s really boring.”

“How much would you pay for a hot chocolate, Harry?” Rodney asked.

Harry picked up his writing set from his desk and put it in his bag beside the Grimoire, before turning back to them. “No more than five sickles.”

“Five sickles?” Michael whistled. “We were thinking about selling them for just one sickle and three knuts.”

“How much will it cost you to buy the hot chocolates?” Harry asked, leaning back against his desk.

“One sickle.” Terry answered.

“Does that include getting them posted to you?”

Terry shook his head. “No.”

“So you probably wouldn’t even make a profit at that price.” Harry pointed out.

“That’s what I’ve been telling them.” Anthony said grumpily.

“But not everyone has as much money as the two of you.” Michael told them. “I get fifteen sickles a week from my parents.”

“So we sell them for two sickles.” Anthony told him.

“Or even three.” Harry suggested. “I’ll see you guys at dinner.”

“Bye.” Terry, Rodney and Michael all chorused.

By the time Harry got back to the classroom, Draco was frowning.

“What took you so long?”

“My friends were there.” Harry told him, placing the Marauder’s Grimoire in front of him. “I couldn’t just ignore them.”

Draco looked unconvinced, but he didn’t bother replying as he immediately opened the Grimoire and began reading the first page.

Harry rolled his eyes and pulled out his writing set and sat down at the desk beside his cousin. The sooner he wrote the letter to Cousin Narcissa the better.

10-10-10

 

 


	12. Chapter 11

It was nine in the morning by the time Narcissa and Lucius entered their dining room for breakfast two days after Hallows Eve. Late mornings were one of the delightful advantages of not having to do anything as pedestrian as working. Which wasn’t to say they did nothing productive with their days. Narcissa, who had always been better at financial and business dealings than her husband, managed the Malfoy accounts, while Lucius was kept busy with his seats on the Wizengamot and the Hogwarts’ Board.

Because of this, the eight owls that were sitting on their specified perch in the corner of the dining room were not a surprise. Some would be for Narcissa, updating her on the various businesses she was currently buying and selling; and some for Lucius, from people who wanted his support for some new law they were presenting to the Wizengamot.

The sight of Harry’s white owl was somewhat of a surprise, however. It wasn’t unheard of for Harry to send her a letter by any means, but neither was it a common occurrence.

Narcissa daintily sat in the seat the Lucius had pulled out for her, before holding out an arm towards the bird. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig took flight immediately and landed gently on her forearm, before sticking out the leg the contained Harry’s letter. Narcissa retrieved the letter and, when the owl left her arm, picked up her letter knife from where it lay beside her bread knife and slit open the envelope.

“Your breakfast will get cold, dear.” Lucius pointed out as he cut into his eggs. “Surely Mr. Potter’s letter can wait.”

Narcissa smiled faintly, but she pulled out the letter and unfolded it anyway.

‘Dear Cousin Narcissa,

Draco and I are both penning this letter, though I have been appointed scribe.’

“It is from both Draconus and Harry.” Narcissa told her husband.

“Oh?” Lucius’ eyes lit up as they did whenever Draconus corresponded with them.

“I’ll read it aloud, shall I?” Narcissa asked. “Dear Cousin Narcissa. Draco and I are both penning this letter, though I have been appointed scribe. We are sure that, by the time you receive this letter, you will have heard that Mrs. Norris (Mr. Filch’s cat) was found petrified on Hallows Eve.”

“What?” Lucius reached out a hand as though to take the letter from her, but Narcissa moved it out of reach. “That was two days ago. How can Dumbledore not have informed the Board?”

Narcissa began reading again. “In the off chance that you have not heard, we have included the details. Mrs. Norris was found petrified, and apparently hanging from her tail, on the third floor after the Hallows Eve Feast. On the wall beside her were the words: ‘‘The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Enemies of the heir, beware.’”

Narcissa paused and looked towards Lucius in horror. “Surely this cannot refer to Slytherin’s Chamber?”

Lucius shook his head. “It is unlikely.”

“It is because of this event that we are writing you.” Narcissa continued reading. “First we must admit something that we have been keeping a secret from you – Harry is a parselmouth”

“A parselmouth?” Lucius repeated faintly. “So his magic is dark. I had wondered whether it would be.”

Narcissa was feeling equally shocked. “I imagine that answers the question as to why Draconus removed the book on Parselmagic from our library over the holidays.”

Lucius nodded.

“And he has two snakes.” Narcissa read. “Please don’t tell anyone.”

“Can you imagine Dumbledore’s face?” Lucius asked in amusement.

Narcissa cleared her throat lightly. “Last month, Harry’s snakes heard another snake in the castle. According to them she is too big to fit into Harry’s dorm room and is very hungry and angry.”

Lucius’ amusement vanished and Narcissa felt as though there was stone in her stomach. A snake that large at Hogwarts? Where Draconus was?

“Harry’s snakes heard the big snake again on Hallows Eve.” Narcissa continued reading. “Harry has done some research on snakes and the sepia, naga and basilisk are all big enough to be the snake that Sarko and Sativa heard, but none of them petrify people. Draco thinks that the snake might be Slytherin’s monster since apparently he was a Parselmouth too. What do you think we should do?”

Narcissa paused her reading and looked towards Lucius, who was looking paler than usual. “We should take Draco out of school. Harry too.”

“Dumbledore would never allow us to withdraw the boy-who-lived from Hogwarts.” Lucius told her. “We need to contact Amelia. The Department of Law-Enforcement should be involved, along with the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. What else does the letter say?”

“Only that they hope that you and I are both well.” Narcissa told him. “I should reply immediately.”

“Yes,” Lucius stood up ignore his barely touched breakfast. “I shall call on Amelia.”

Narcissa stood as well, she would have the house elves send her something light to eat in her study. “I shall walk you to the floo.”

“Penby!” Lucius called.

One of their house elves appeared in front of them within seconds. “Master Malfoy is calling Penby?” The elf saw their uneaten breakfasts on the table and began pulling at her ears anxiously. “Master and Mistress is not being enjoying their breakfast?”

“It was fine.” Lucius bit out impatiently. “Retrieve my cloak.”

Penby disappeared with a small pop, reappearing seconds later with Lucius’ cloak in hand.

Lucius took the cloak from her with an abrupt nod, before turning to leave the room. Narcissa followed to the Entrance Hall and bestowed a light kiss on his lips.

“Tell them to stay safe.” Lucius told her. “Under no circumstances are they to investigate the attack.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow questioningly. “Surely Draconus is far too much of a Slytherin to consider such an action.”

“One would hope.” Lucius agreed. “Mr. Potter, however…”

“Is a Ravenclaw.” Narcissa reminded him.

“A Ravenclaw whose father was the epitome of all that is wrong with Gryffindors.” Lucius sneered. “I will not see Draco hurt because he befriended James Potter’s son.”

Narcissa didn’t think that Harry was anything like James Potter, but she nodded anyway. “Stay safe, Lucius.”

Lucius’ face softened slightly and he reached out a hand to squeeze her hand. “You also, my dear.”

11-11-11

The week after Mrs. Norris was petrified went by swiftly for Harry.

He didn’t see much of Draco as the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch game was the coming Saturday and the Slytherin team seemed to practising at every opportunity. The Gryffindor team were also practising most of the time which, given that there was only one Quidditch Pitch, had apparently been the cause of multiple arguments. Harry thought it was pretty amusing and probably the reason why it was normally Gryffindor or Slytherin who won the Quidditch Cup – that kind of hard headed determination wreaked havoc on the players’ grades, but definitely made them better at Quidditch.

Neville was still coming running with Harry and Takashi in the mornings and, while a week was nowhere near long enough for the effects of the exercise to been seen, Harry was impressed by his friend’s commitment. Every morning, Neville would meet them at the Quidditch Pitch and then run until he could barely breathe – twice he’d actually run until he vomited.

Cousin Narcissa’s reply arrived on Wednesday in which she assured them that Lord Malfoy would deal with the situation and forbidding them to go in search for the monster. The thought of looking for the monster hadn’t actually occurred to Harry until he received Cousin Narcissa’s letter, and he had no idea she had thought it was necessary to mention it. Who in their right mind would go looking for a monster that could petrify people?

After classes on Thursday, Harry, Neville and Takashi met under the big tree by the lake to practise wandless magic. Neville had originally been unsure about the idea of Takashi joining them, but now that they’d run together six days in a row, he seemed much more relaxed about the idea.

“So how do you normally do this?” Takashi asked them as they sat down on the grass.

“We take turns.” Harry answered, looking over at Neville. “One person meditates, while the other watches to see if the twig levitates and to makes sure that no one disturbs us. Now that you’re here though, we can have two people mediating while one person watches.”

“I’ll watch first.” Neville offered quietly.

“Are you certain?” Takashi asked. “I would not mind watching you first.”

“It’s fine.” Neville told him.

“Did you read the book and the notes that Neville and I made?” Harry asked.

“Yes, thank you.” Takashi opened his bag and took out a book which he then passed to Harry. “It was very helpful. Do you only practise together? Or do you practise individually also?”

“I practise every morning when I meditate.” Neville told him.

“I’ve started practising in the evenings.” Harry added as he adjusted his position so he was sitting cross legged. “We have been trying to levitate something wandlessly, partly because it’s one of the first spells we learnt, and partly because it’s easy to tell when it’s working. So find a twig and place it in front of you.”

Takashi found a twig and then put it in front of where he was sitting. “And then I meditate?”

“Yeah.” Neville nodded. “We’ve got about two hours until dinner, so I’ll let you guys know when you have managed it or forty minutes has gone by.”

“Thanks, Neville.” Harry grinned at him, before shutting his eyes and beginning his breathing.

Getting to a place where he could see and communicate with his magic was easy, the part where he made his magic do as he wanted was harder. Still, he’d been practising for an hour every night for a week now, and so he managed it on his second attempt. He continued to hover the twig for a while, before slowly lowering it and then releasing his magic. Then he tried again.

It was when he levitated his twig for the fourth time, and still hadn’t heard anything from Neville, that Harry decided to try something new. Instead of lowering the twig and starting over again, he tried to slowly draw himself out of his meditative state while keeping the twig in the air.

The first few seconds were exciting, he could feel himself emerging from his mediation with the twig still in the air, but then the twig dropped.

Harry sighed and pulled himself the rest of the way out of his mediation. He opened his eyes and looked around for Neville, who was leaning against the tree trunk playing with a twig. Takashi was still meditating to his left, his twig still on the ground.

“How long has it been?” Harry asked quietly.

“Thirty minutes.” Neville told him. “You’ve gotten really fast. Why did you stop?”

“I tried to come out of my mediation while I was still levitating the twig.” Harry explained.

“Ah,” Neville nodded in understand. “That explains that sudden drop.”

“Do you want a go?” Harry asked. “I’m happy to watch for a while.”

Neville looked concerned. “Are you sure?”

“Of course.” Harry nodded. “Go for it.”

“Alright, thanks.” Neville smiled shyly and dropped the twig he’d been playing with in front of him before closing his eyes.

Harry sat and watched Neville and Takashi for a few minutes before deciding to do some sit-ups like he had the last time they had done this. The great thing about sit-ups was that he could still watch his friends while he was doing them.

Fourteen minutes into Neville’s meditation his twig floated up, and then slowly lowered. Harry was impressed, Neville had halved his time in a week – his practise was definitely paying off.

Neville levitated his twig again ten minutes later, and then again eight minutes after that.

Harry looked at Takashi and realised that the older boy had been mediating for just over an hour now with no visible progress. It was surprising to Harry, Takashi was three years older than him and, even though this was his first attempt, Harry had expected him to get it really quickly.

Neville floated his twig again eight minutes later, but then, instead of him slowly lowering it, the twig suddenly dropped like a rock.

“Bother.” Neville grimaced as he opened his eyes. “That’s hard! How does anyone manage to do it when they’re not meditating?”

“Practise.” Harry grinned. “You’re getting a lot faster though. The first time only took you fourteen minutes.”

“How long altogether?” Neville asked him.

“Forty minutes.” Harry told him quietly. “Takashi’s still trying.”

Neville looked just as surprised as Harry felt. “He hasn’t managed it yet?”

“No.”

“It did take me a lot of tries.” Neville commented. “I practised for a week before I got it.”

“You practised for a week before you had confirmation that you got it.” Harry corrected. “It’s hard to tell if you’re doing it or not at the beginning. For all you know you managed it on the second time, you just couldn’t tell.”

Neville shrugged uncomfortably. “Do you want to go again?”

“Sure.” Harry agreed. “We’ve got another fifty minutes until dinner, so nudge me after twenty five minutes and then you can go again.”

“Okay.”

Harry closed his eyes and then sunk back into his meditation. He levitated the twig and then lowered it again, levitated it, lowered it again, levitated it, and then felt Neville nudging him. Harry tightened his grip on his magic and then tried to pull himself out of his meditating, the twig still in the air. He grimaced when he dropped it again.

“Damn!”

Neville laughed quietly.

Harry looked over at Takashi. “Has he managed it yet?”

“No.” Neville said as he shut his eyes to begin meditating.

Harry watched Takashi’s twig closely, looking for any sign that the twig was moving, but the twig didn’t so much as wiggle. It made no sense. It had only taken Harry forty five minutes to levitate the twig the first time he had tried and Takashi had been trying for almost two hours. Why couldn’t Takashi do it? He was older than Harry and had been the one to teach Harry how to meditate.

By the time the dinner bell rang, Neville had managed to levitate his stick twice and Takashi’s stick still hadn’t moved.

“Neville? Takashi?” Harry said loudly. “It’s dinner time.”

“Dinner time?” Takashi asked, opening his eyes after a few seconds. “But you were going to disturb me after forty minutes.”

Harry felt awkward. “Sorry, Neville and I thought we would let you practise.”

“We’ve done this before.” Neville added as he stood up.

“I do not want to be an imposition.” Takashi said seriously as he stretched his legs.

“You’re not.” Harry told him and held out a hand for Neville to pull him up. “Besides, Neville and I can already levitate the twig.”

Takashi gave him an odd look. “Thank you. Next time you must let me take my turn watching though.”

“Alright.”

11-11-11

When Saturday arrived, Harry, along with most of the school, gathered in the bleachers around the Quidditch Pitch to watch the Slytherin versus Gryffindor game. It wasn’t the best day for watching a Quidditch match, the weather was muggy and felt as though it might turn into a storm at any moment.

“Anyone want to place a bet on the outcome?” Michael asked as they waited for the game to start.

“Ten sickles on Gryffindor.” Terry said with a grin.

“Damn right Gryffindor is going to win.” Rodney nodded. “If I’m going to sit out here, for Merlin knows how long, watching my sister play this bloody game, then her team better bloody win it.”

“Hear, hear.” Michael laughed.

Harry grimaced. “Ten sickles on Slytherin.”

“Seriously?” Terry raised his eyebrows. “Even though your cousin bribed his way into the position of chaser?”

“He didn’t bribe his way onto the team.” Harry defended for what seemed like the hundredth time. “The brooms were a celebration gift.”

“Hmph.” Terry didn’t look convinced.

Suddenly the bleachers burst into noise as the Gryffindor Team walked onto the pitch. The Gryffindors were cheering the loudest, but there were a lot of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs cheering too.

“Listen to the snakes.” Anthony sneered once the noise quietened down. “Did you hear them booing?”

“Like the Gryffindors won’t boo when the Slytherin team arrives.” Harry rolled his eyes.

Seconds later his point was made as the Slytherin Team walked onto the pitch and the Gryffindor’s boos and hisses were clearly heard over the sound of Slytherins’ cheers.

Harry clapped and cheered loudly for Draco – pointedly ignoring all the disgruntled looks his friends were giving him.

“Look at those brooms.” Terry sighed enviously.

Rodney looked annoyed. “They’re just brooms and it’s not as though you haven’t seen them before – they’re exactly the same as Harry’s.”

“I know.” Terry replied. “I think I’m even more jealous now that I’ve actually had a go on Harry’s one. It’s like flying on a very fast cloud.”

Harry snorted in amusement. “A fast cloud? Really?”

Madame Hooch’s whistle blew suddenly and Harry quickly grabbed Draco’s omnioculars from his bag so that he could actually see what was happening.

“Are those made of gold?” Terry asked incredulously.

“They’re Draco’s.” Harry explained and he brought them to his eyes and searched for his cousin in the sky.

“Of course they are.” Terry’s tone was scathing, but Harry ignored him.

Lee Jordan’s commentary of the match was echoing around the stadium. “…Spinnet has the quaffle, she weaves her way down the pitch, dodging Slytherin Chasers Flint and Pucey. She passes to Katie Bell who shoots and SCORES!”

Harry soon found Draco who was looking as confident as always. His cousin’s task seemed to be to stick close to Angelina Johnson and make sure that the Gryffindor’s couldn’t pass to her. It was a good strategy, and Draco was doing a good job at it, but Harry couldn’t help but wish that Draco’s mark had been someone other than Rodney’s sister.

“Slytherin has possession,” Lee’s commentary continued. “Flint passes to Pucey, who dodges around Johnson and then passes to Malfoy who spins around Spinnet and, woah, pulls of a one handed Sloth Grip Roll to avoid a bludger.”

Harry grinned, good for Draco! He knew his cousin had practised for hours over the summer to be able to properly pull off that move.

“Well, he can fly.” Terry muttered from beside him. “I’ll give him that.”

“…Flint passes to Pucey who shoots and scores.” Lee’s commentary continued. “Which brings the score to 10-10.”

After a few more minutes of watching Draco, Harry turned the omnioculars towards the seekers. They were both circling the pitch, a good fifty feet above the hoops, and it seemed as though Warren Tate, the Gryffindor Seeker, was tailing Terence Higgs, the Slytherin Seeker. It was a poor strategy on Tate’s part, in Harry’s opinion. Higg’s broom easily outstripped Tate’s and it was unlikely that Tate would manage to keep up if it came to a race. Tate needed to find the snitch first, not follow along on Higgs’ coat tails.

Harry watched them circle for a few minutes, half listening to Lee’s commentary, before getting bored and going back to watching the chasers. Neither Seekers seemed to have any real talent for the position, they weren’t even trying to trick each other into believing that they’d seen the snitch. It was disappointing really, the Gryffindor and Slytherin teams were supposed to be the best but Harry was sure that he and Diggory could outfly their seekers any day.

The score was 50-60 to Slytherin when Harry returned his attention to the chasers and he grinned as he saw Draco score a goal.

“Not another one.” Lee groaned. “That’s three goals for Slytherin Chaser Malfoy. Why he needed to buy his way onto the team is anyone’s guess.”

“Jordan!” McGonagall snapped.

“Sorry, Professor.” Lee acknowledged. “Bell has possession of the quaffle, she dives under Pucey and turns to pass it to Johnson, but Johnson is blocked by Malfoy who intercepts the pass and immediately passes to Pucey.”

“Wanker!” Rodney growled. “What does he think he’s doing?”

“It’s called the Grodzisk Play.” Harry answered. “The Grodzisk Goblins’ are famous for it.”

“The Grodzisk Goblins?”

“They’re Polish.”

“Well, why on earth is your cousin using Polish tactics against my sister?” Rodney asked with a growl.

“Probably because they’re effective.” Harry answered blandly. “And because his captain told him to.”

“Bloody Slytherins.” Rodney grumbled.

Two hours later the game was still going and Harry had decided that the Seekers weren’t just disappointing, they were awful! Harry had already the spotted the snitch three times, once hovering barely ten feet away from Higgs, but the seekers had made no sign of having spotted it.

The beaters and chasers were obviously getting tired, but the score was still very close at 420-300 to Slytherin.

 It was another fifteen minutes before the Higgs finally seemed to spot the snitch and began speeding across to the other side of the pitch. Tate turned a second later to follow him, but Harry’s original presumption was right, and by the time Higgs’ hand closed over the snitch, Tate had fallen behind.

There was collective groan from the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs as the game ended and Lee announced Slytherin’s victory, but the Slytherins’ cheers were still easily heard.

Harry cheered along with them.


	13. Chapter 12

Breakfast the next morning was amusing more than anything. The Gryffindors were all wearing their disappointment on their sleeves and the Slytherins’ weren’t even trying to hide their smugness over having won.

“How is it that the Gryffindors are angrier at Slytherin for beating them fair and square than they were at me when I disfigured their captain?” Harry asked.

Terry grinned at the memory. “That was awesome.”

“Fair and square?” Anthony sneered. “There was nothing fair about that game!”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “How so?”

“The Slytherins had superior brooms.” Anthony answered as though it obvious.

“That’s rubbish.” Harry retorted. “One team almost always has better brooms. I have a better broom than Diggory, does that mean that I didn’t beat him fair and square?”

“Of course not.” Terry said quickly. “But…”

“But nothing.” Harry snapped. “The Slytherins outplayed the Gryffindors and it had nothing to do with their brooms. Did you see Flint’s reverse pass to Pucey? No offence to Rodney’s sister, but the Gryffindors weren’t nearly as polished as the Slytherins were. And Higgs saw the snitch first, even if their brooms had been equal he still would have caught it first.”

Anthony sneered. “Of course you’d say that. You’re just as much of a cheat as the snakes. Who knows why you didn’t get sorted there.”

“At least then I wouldn’t have had to put up with your idiocy!” Harry snarled.

“Okay, both of you need to calm down.” Terry said, placing a hand on Harry’s arm.

Harry closed his eyes and took a moment to find the calm that he always found when he was meditating. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have lost my temper.”

Anthony just sneered at him.

“It’s just Quidditch, guys.” Rodney pointed out. “My sister was actually playing and I don’t care that much.”

“You’re right.” Harry agreed. “It was unreasonable of me. My apologies, Anthony.”

“If I may have your attention please.” Dumbledore’s voice rang out in the hall and Harry turned in his seat so that he could see the headmaster. “I am saddened to have to announce that Hagrid, Hogwarts’ groundskeeper, was found petrified last night. He is currently residing in the Hospital Wing.”

Harry blinked in surprise. Hagrid? But that made as little sense as petrifying Mrs. Norris. Why would Slytherin’s Heir choose to attack Hagrid?

“There is no reason to worry.” Dumbledore continued. “Madame Pomfrey is confident that she will be able to reverse the petrification by the end of the school year.”

“Do you reckon that it’s Slytherin’s monster again?” Michael asked when Dumbledore dismissed them.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Anthony told him pompously. “I can’t believe that you actually believed Binns about all that nonsense.”

“What else could it be?” Michael retorted. “The writing on the wall said that the Chamber of Secrets had been opened.”

“It could be a prank.” Anthony pointed out. “Maybe the Marauders’ Apprentices are doing it.”

Harry almost choked in shock. “What?”

“That’s silly.” Terry told Anthony. “The Marauders’ Apprentices have made Lockhart’s hair and teeth fall out. Not actually petrified people.”

12-12-12

“So Anthony thinks that we, and by that I mean the Marauders’ Apprentices, were the ones who attacked Hagrid.” Harry told Draco when they met in the classroom that afternoon.

Draco snorted disparagingly. “Let’s hope he never decides he wants to be an Auror.”

“Why do you think Hagrid was attacked?” Harry asked as he sat down in his usual seat. “He’s not a muggleborn is he?”

“No,” Draco grimaced. “He’s probably a half-giant though.”

“Really?” Harry stared at him. “How would that work? His mum had to be the giant right? Because if it was his dad…?”

“Gross!” Draco complained.

“I suppose it would explain why he’s so big.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Anyway, I’ve been looking through the Marauders’ Grimoire and I think I found something.”

“What?” Harry leant forward in interest as Draco took the Grimoire out of the bag and put in on the desk between them.

“Page seventy three.” Draco said as he opened the book. “It’s a mixture between an inebriation potion, a truth potion and the sonorous spell.”

Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “That sounds complicated. Besides didn’t you want to prank him in a way that Dumbledore wouldn’t see as an attack this time?”

“No more complicated that the last potion we made.” Draco answered. “And who cares what Dumbledore thinks? Hopefully, this potion will make Lockhart spill enough of his secrets that he will want to leave.”

“That’s presuming he has secrets.” Harry pointed out.

“Everyone has secrets.” Draco told him. “Especially famous people.”

Harry looked at the page the Draco had opened the book to and read the recipe. “It takes a week to make!”

“I know,” Draco agreed, “But each of the steps needs to be done twelve hours apart, which means that we can make it before breakfast and after dinner.”

“Can you order the ingredients again?” Harry asked. “I’ll help you pay for them of course, but my roommates will get suspicious if I get random potions ingredients delivered.”

“As opposed to my roommates who never get suspicious of anything.” Draco answered sarcastically. “But, yes, that sounds fine.”

“Thanks.” Harry nodded. “If we order them today, we should be able to start on Thursday.”

“Have you had any luck looking for a spell to guard this room?” Draco asked suddenly. “A week is a long time to leave a potion in a classroom that just anyone could walk into.”

“I forgot.” Harry admitted. “We decided not to use a ward right?”

“They’re too complicated.” Draco agreed.

“So we need a spell that will either prevent people from coming in, or make it so that people don’t want to.” Harry mused.

“You suggested a notice-me-not spell.” Draco reminded him.

“What if we did both?” Harry asked. “A spell to prevent people from seeing the door and a spell to lock the door.”

“I’ll look for the locking spell.” Draco nodded. “You look for the spell to hide the door.”

“Alright.” Harry agreed.

“And try not to get petrified.” Draco told him.

“You too.”

Draco snorted. “Nobody’s going to try and petrify me! I’m a pureblood!”

Harry rolled his eyes.

12-12-12

After dinner that night, Harry walked back to Ravenclaw Tower with his dorm mates, and then followed them into their dorm. He walked over to his desk and picked up the book he was reading, before turning to get onto his bed. He stopped in surprise when he realised that all four of his dorm mates were watching him.

“Can I help you?”

“Can we talk to you, Harry?” Terry asked.

Harry’s stomach clenched nervously and he put the book down on his bed. “Sure. What about?”

“Our business plan.” Michael said, enthusiastically brandishing a roll of parchment at him.

“You finished it then?” Harry asked, feeling relieved as he turned his desk chair around so he could sit on it and face them.

“Yeah.” Rodney was grinning. “It was really boring, but we finally finished it this afternoon.”

Anthony rolled his eyes. “It wasn’t that boring.”

“The thing is, that we realised that we need an investor.” Terry told Harry.

“And you said that you were willing to be our silent partner.” Michael added.

“Can I see your proposal?” Harry asked, reaching out his hand.

“Sure.” Michael passed it to him, practically bouncing in excitement.

Harry unrolled the parchment and began looking through it. He was only a few lines in when he realised that they were all still staring at him.

“Give me a few minutes to look this through and then we can talk about it.” Harry told them.

“Right.” Terry agreed.

Harry stood up and turned his chair around so he could lay the parchment out on his desk. Then he took out a new piece of parchment and a quill so that he could take notes if he needed to.

He was in no way an expert in regards to business things, he knew that. Six days of being tutored on the subject by Cousin Narcissa and Bakrog had certainly taught him a lot, but he still had a lot to learn. Still, Harry found that his basic knowledge was enough to help him understand what he was reading – it probably helped that the business proposal had been written by other twelve year olds.

Harry carefully read though the proposal, jotting down questions and ideas as he went, and then rolled it up again.

“Are you done?” Michael asked quickly.

Harry laughed in amusement. “Were you watching me that whole time?”

“I’m excited.” Michael defended. “So what did you think?”

Harry turned his chair around again and then passed the proposal back to Michael. “I have a few questions.”

“Alright.” Michael carried his chair across the room and sat near Harry and then the other three boys did the same.

“You don’t have any room in your budget for unexpected expenses.” Harry started. “What happens if your owl dies on the way? Or your chocolate accidently melts? You also haven’t included a storage box in your expenses.”

Michael looked uncomfortable. “It’s already a lot of money. I mean, we already need ten galleons from you.”

“There’s no point in starting up the business if it’s going to collapse at the first sign of trouble.” Harry pointed out. “Also, have you thought about this long term? How long will you run the business for?”

“Why does that matter?” Rodney asked with a frown.

“Because if I invest ten galleons then it will take some time to get that money back.” Harry explained. “But if you guys don’t plan on running it for long enough for that to happen then it’s not really a good investment for me.”

Anthony nodded, but he looked disgruntled.

“Also,” Harry added. “Have you asked Claessens Chocolat whether they mind you selling it here? If you talk to them you might be able to get an agreement that they won’t sell the chocolate to anyone else at Hogwarts. You’ll probably have to pay a bit more, but it would stop people from deciding to bypass the middle man and just buy it straight from the source.”

His friends were looking much less enthusiastic than they had been before.

“I’m sorry.” Harry told them seriously. “I’m not trying to ruin your fun or anything, but if you’re going to do this you might as well do it properly.”

“It’s fine.” Terry told him with a weak smile. “Are those your only problems with it?”

“I had one more thought.” Harry told them. “What if you were to talk to Claessens Chocolat and tell them your plan and ask not only for exclusivity, but also for permission to open up a store in England that sells their chocolate in the future?”

“You mean when we leave school?” Michael asked.

“Or even beforehand.” Harry said. “All you’d need to do was pay for someone to run the store for you.”

“Wouldn’t that cost a lot?” Rodney asked.

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “But if you get their permission, and you’re willing to put the work in, I would be willing to agree to financially back it.”

“Seriously?” Michael was looking stunned.

“Yes.” Harry nodded. “Honeydukes could use a competitor and there isn’t a single chocolate store in Diagon Alley.”

“And what would you want in exchange.” Anthony asked with a grimace.

Harry leaned forward and clasped his hands together. “If you get an exclusivity agreement from Claessens Chocolat and agree to sell the chocolate for at least two years, then I will give you the ten galleons you need for twenty percent of the business.”

Anthony nodded. “That sounds fair.”

“What about for the other idea?” Terry asked.

“Then there’s some additional questions.” Harry answered. “For example, do you want to use my name or do you want me to be a silent partner? Because using my name will get you more business, but it would mean more risk for me.”

His friends exchanged silent looks.

“Besides which, let’s say I put in a thousand galleons to start a shop here in England, suddenly I am investing a lot more into the company than you.” Harry continued. “Which means that I would want a bigger percentage, maybe forty percent and veto power for all big decisions.”

Terry, Michael and Rodney were frowning.

“He’s right.” Anthony told them, though he looked as though he was tasting something bitter. “He’s actually being really nice. My dad would ask for at least fifty one percent.”

“Do we have to decide now?” Michael asked.

Harry shook his head. “No, definitely not. You would need to talk to your parents anyway and there’s no way we could open a shop until I turn fifteen and get total control of the Potter Accounts.”

“But we should mention the possibility to them and see what they say.” Anthony pointed out.

“Do you think they’ll take us seriously?” Michael asked. “We’re only twelve.”

“I could ask Baknog if he would be willing to help us.” Harry offered. “He’s the goblin who oversees my family’s accounts. They’d probably take it more seriously coming from him.”

“But won’t that mean that they know you’re involved?” Terry asked.

“It doesn’t have to.” Harry told them.

“Can we talk about it and get back to you?” Michael asked.

“Sure.” Harry nodded, trying not feel left out. After all, he had been the one who had told them that he wouldn’t have time to be part of it.

12-12-12

The next morning Sirius’ owl, a grumpy boreal owl that he had bought in Switzerland, delivered a letter to Harry during breakfast.

Harry couldn’t help but feel relieved. It had been two weeks since he’d last received a letter from his godfather and he’d been beginning to worry that he’d done something wrong.

_‘Harry,_

_Sorry it has taken me so long to reply. It’s been a hard couple of weeks for me and I needed to work some things out before I wrote back to you. Good job on that last prank, it sounds amazing! You and whoever you’re working with should start your own Pranking Grimoire. Or you could just add to the back of our one. If you tap the book with your wand and say, ‘I solemnly swear that I’m up to no good’, then a new page should appear. When you’ve finished writing on the page, tap the page with your wand and say, ‘mischief managed’, the book will lock the page in._

_I could hardly believe it when I read what you wrote about Filch’s cat being petrified. Nothing like that happened when I was at Hogwarts, it’s supposed to be the safest place in the United Kingdom. Be careful! I don’t know what I would do if you go hurt. Though I suppose that if the person doing this is pretending to be Slytherin’s heir, they are probably going to be more concerned with attacking muggleborns. On the other hand, if they are pretending to be Slytherin’s heir they probably followed You-Know-Who and so probably want you dead too. So keep your eyes open._

_I remember you mentioning the Malfoy heir in one of your first letters to me. You’re not still spending time with him are you? I doubt he’s the one who attacked the cat as he is only your age, but he is a Malfoy and his father was one of the You-Know-Who’s most loyal supporters. The Malfoys are dark wizards through and through. Narcissa, the Malfoy-in-your-year’s mother, is actually my first cousin which explains everything really. My family was one of the darkest families in Wizarding Britain._

_Anyway, how are your classes going? Do you have any more prank ideas? Write back when you can._

_Your godfather,_

_Sirius’_

Harry frowned at the letter in annoyance. He hated it when Sirius mentioned his hatred of anything dark and this letter was full of it. What would his godfather do if he found out that Harry’s magic was dark? Would he hate Harry like the Dursleys did? Harry had another three years until he would be old enough to be emancipated and become the Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter and he didn’t want to spend those three years living with people who hated him, whether they be the Dursleys or his godfather. 

“You alright, Harry?” Terry asked as he slid into the seat next to Harry.

Harry shoved the letter into his bag and nodded. “Yes. You’re up late. There’s only five minutes left until class.”

“The guys and I stayed up late last night talking about what you said.” Terry said before yawning.

“Any decisions?” Harry asked curiously.

“Anthony’s going to draft a new proposal.” Terry told him as he grabbed a piece of toast. “And then we’re going to talk to you again.”

“Fair enough.” Harry nodded. “Sorry for being so difficult.”

“Don’t apologise.” Terry told him. “It was actually really helpful. We want to do this properly.”

“Alright.” Harry nodded. “Did you hear that some people are selling talismans to protect people against whatever it is that petrifying students?”

“But they don’t even know what it is.” Terry mumbled through a mouthful of toast.

“I know, it’s ridiculous.” Harry agreed. “I really hope the professors put a stop to it. Whoever is selling them is taking advantage of people’s fears and it will make people feel safe when they shouldn’t.”

“You don’t think people should feel safe?” Terry asked. “Did you see the first years yesterday? They’re going around in terrified little packs. How is that helping anyone?”

“I just mean that people shouldn’t be taking stupid risks, like wandering around the corridors after lights out, and the talismans might make idiots feel safe enough to do so.” Harry explained. “Luna Lovegood isn’t wandering around in a pack. I saw her on my way down this morning.”

“Two things,” Terry told him. “Firstly, Lovegood isn’t exactly a normal first year; and secondly, surely you’ve noticed that she’s a bit of an outcast. The other first years don’t really talk to her.”

Harry sighed. “I just wish I could do something. Maybe I could invite her to hang out with us sometimes.”

“Wouldn’t that be a bit weird?” Terry asked. “Inviting a first year girl to hang out with a group of second year boys? I mean if we still hung out with the girls, sure, but we barely even talk to them anymore.”

“Maybe I should mention something to Padma.” Harry mused. “She’s always been really nice.”

Terry shrugged. “What’s she going to do? Besides, Lovegood doesn’t seem to mind that she’s got no friends. I’m not sure she’s sane enough to notice. I saw her talking to a wall yesterday.”

Harry glared at him as the bell rang signalling that it was time to go to their first class. “She’s not mad, she’s different.”

“And you know this because you talked to her for a total of five minutes one time?” Terry stood up, taking a fresh piece of toast with him.

Harry winced. “You’re right. I should talk to her more.”

“That wasn’t my point.” Terry protested.

12-12-12

“Do you know a girl named Luna Lovegood?” Harry asked Draco when they met at lunchtime.

“Of course.” Draco nodded. “She’s my second cousin.”                                                                                         

“Really?” Harry asked in surprise. “Well I guess that explains why you both have the same colour hair.”

“Plenty of unrelated people have the same colour hair.” Draco rolled his eyes. “You and Pansy have the same colour hair, but you’re only fifth cousins.”

“Really? Fifth cousins?” Harry hadn’t known that.

“Yes.” Draco confirmed. “It’s ridiculous how unrelated the two of you are really. Maybe you should talk to Lord Black about arranging a betrothal contract. It would get her off my back at least.”

Harry grimaced. “So Luna is your cousin?”

“Yes.” Draco nodded. “Her father’s mother was the sister of my father’s father.”

“Do you see her very much?” Harry asked.

“Not anymore.” Draco answered. “Her mother died a few years back and her father became quite the recluse. He even stopped coming to our Yule Party.”

“Have you spoken to Luna since she’s been at Hogwarts?” Harry asked.

Draco looked suspicious. “No, why?”

“She doesn’t seem to have any friends.” Harry explained. “All the other first years are moving around in groups and she’s wandering around by herself. And when I talked to her in September she wasn’t wearing any shoes. She said that the nargles had stolen them.”

 “She’s still seeing things then?” Draco asked.

“Seeing things?”

“She’s a seer.” Draco explained.

“A seer?” Harry’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Like Trelawney?”

Draco sneered. “Of course not. Luna doesn’t see the future, she sees things from a different perspective.”

Harry shook his head in confusion. “I don’t understand.”

“Take nargles.” Draco said. “Nargles are the word she uses to describe a particular kind of person. Luna…sees through disguises and masks, she sees a person for who they really are. Seers like her are incredibly rare, like parselmouths, and most of the time they’re accused of being insane.”

“She does come across kind of mad.” Harry acknowledged.

“Because what she says only really makes sense when you understand her language.” Draco explained.

“How do you know so much about it?” Harry asked curiously.

“Mother explained it all to me when I was younger.” Draco told him. “She wanted me to understand why Luna was a bit different.”

“So could I invite her to spend time with us sometimes?” Harry asked. “She doesn’t seem to have any friends.”

Draco was quiet for a few seconds as he considered that. “Yes, you should. And try and find out who’s stealing her shoes. We’ll make them pay.”

 


	14. Chapter 13

It wasn’t until Wednesday morning that Harry got the chance to invite Luna to join him and Draco in their classroom during lunch. Her response was confusingly vague and by the time lunchtime arrived Harry still wasn’t sure whether or not she had agreed to join them.

As was his habit, Harry hurried from his last morning class to the Great Hall and quickly swallowed down a few sandwiches, before taking a few more to eat on the way to the classroom. It was almost a minute, and three corridors, later that he realised that Luna was following him.

“Is this the way to the secret cave, Harry Potter?” Luna asked dreamily when Harry stopped to allow her catch up with him.

“Um, yes?” Harry answered slowly as he began walking again. “At least, it is if by ‘secret cave’ you mean the place where Draco and I meet.”

“How lovely.” Luna told him. “I’ve always wanted to be invited to a secret cave.”

Harry wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so they walked the rest of the way in an awkward silence. As they walked, Harry considered, not for the first time, what Draco had told him about her.

Harry hadn’t read anything about divination or seers, it just wasn’t something that he had been interested in and it certainly wasn’t a class he planned to take, but he thought that he probably should if he was going to start spending time with Luna. Draco had described her as a seer, but one who saw the world differently rather than seeing the future and Harry could definitely see how that could be a useful ability. It sounded even more useful than seeing the future in his opinion.

Draco was already waiting in the classroom when they arrived and he greeted Harry with a bow. “Merry meet.”

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded to him and then to Luna when she curtsied to both him and Draco.

“Merry meet, Luna.” Draco nodded. “It is good to see you again.”

“Yes, it is.” Luna agreed. “Have you been well, Draconus?”

“I have.” Draco answered. “Have you?”

“Oh yes.” Luna told him with a smile. “It’s not the same now that mother’s gone, of course, but daddy and I work very well together.”

“And are you enjoying Hogwarts?” Draco asked.

“Well enough.” Luna shrugged. “I miss daddy of course, but it is exciting to be learning so many new things.”

Harry moved towards the desk that he and Draco usually sat around and pulled a third chair up to it. “Would you like to sit down, Luna?”

“Thank you.” Luna beamed at him. “That is very kind of you.”

They all sat around the desk and then sat in awkward silence for a while. Harry searched his mind for something to say.

“The items I ordered arrived today, Harry.” Draco said after a minute.

“Oh, do you mean the items for the next stage of your plan to expose the great spurumdinger?” Luna asked innocently.

Harry blinked. “What? What’s a spurumdinger?”

“Yes.” Draco told her fondly. “Exactly.”

“How fun.” Luna beamed.

Harry shook his head in confusion. “Seriously, what’s a spurumdinger?”

“She means Lockhart.” Draco explained. “She knows that we’re the ones pranking him.”

“It’s all very exciting.” Luna told them. “I was rather disappointed when I found out that he would be teaching me, he’s almost as bad as the nargles.”

“Yes, about the nargles.” Draco looked concerned. “Do you think you could point them out to Harry, Luna? Then we can stop them from stealing your shoes.”

“You would do that?” Luna’s eyes widened and looked suspiciously wet.

“Of course.” Harry assured her. “We don’t let anyone hurt our friends.”

Luna’s nose wrinkled slightly. “Am I your friend then?”

“Yes.” Harry told her firmly. “That is, we’d like you to be our friend.”

“Alright then.” Luna agreed. “Does this mean that I can help you expose the spurumdinger?”

Harry and Draco exchanged a look before both nodding.

“Definitely.” Draco told her. “But you can’t tell anyone. It has to stay a secret between us.”

Luna looked excited. “I’ve always wanted to have a secret with someone.”

13-13-13

After dinner that night, Harry searched the Ravenclaw Library, which was a culmination of the Ravenclaw students’ book collections, for a book about seers. He’d never looked for divination books before so it took him a while to find the right bookcase, but once he’d found it choosing a book was easy. There were only ten books on divination, a far cry from the fifty eight books on potions, and only one of them seemed to talk about seers who didn’t tell the future.

Harry tucked the book under his arm and then searched the common room for an empty armchair. It took him a few minutes, but eventually he found one in the corner of the room and settled down to read.

According to the book the different kinds of divination were all blood traits, just like being parselmouth. Luna’s kind of divination was the rarest kind which, seeing how rare all blood traits were, was really saying something. Apparently Luna was a Conspicuum Seer which meant that she saw people, objects and events for what they really were. Conspicuum Seers could see through all kinds of disguises, even magical ones, and they could see the essence of a person. The book was rather vague on what exactly that meant though.

“Harry?”

Harry looked up from his book and blinked at the sight of Terry standing in front of him. “Hmm?”

Terry looked amused. “Good book?”

“Yes.” Harry answered, he looked down to remember the page number and then closed the book. “How can I help you?”

“We have a new proposal.” Terry handed him a roll of parchment. “We’ve decided that we do want to use your account manager if that’s still okay with you.”

Harry unrolled the parchment. “It should be fine. I’ll look through this tonight and then send Baknog a letter in the morning.”

“Brilliant.” Terry grinned. “What are you reading about?”

“The different kinds of seers.” Harry told him, his eyes still focussed on the proposal.

“Seers?” Terry sounded surprised. “Are you thinking about taking Divination next year then?”

Harry finished reading the first paragraph in the proposal and then looked up at Terry. “What? Oh, no, not even slightly.”

“I’ll leave you to read.” Terry sounded amused. “Since you’re not really listening to me anyway.”

Harry winced and stood up, tucking the book on divination under one arm. “Sorry. I’ll walk back to our dorm with you. I’m going to want a piece of parchment.”

“You haven’t found more things for us to fix, have you?” Terry asked with a sigh.

“Not so far.” Harry answered. “I just have a few questions for Bagnok and I don’t want to forget them.”

“Thank Merlin!” Terry exclaimed. “This all seemed like a good idea last week, but it’s boring!”

Harry looked at him in surprise. “Really? I think it’s really interesting.”

“Well, seeing as how you’re going to get control of the Potter Accounts in three years, that’s probably a good thing.” Terry commented. “I want to be a healer.”

Harry frowned in confusion. “Didn’t you want to get your mastery in charms?”

“Yeah, last week.” Terry told him. “I’ve changed my mind.”

“Oh.” Harry followed Terry into their dorm room.

“What do you think?” Michael exuberantly asked from where he was lying on his bed.

“I’ve only read the first bit.” Harry answered. “I’m going to read the rest now.”

Michael sighed. “Alright.”

“And you’re not allowed to stare at me while I read it!” Harry said firmly. “It’s distracting.”

“Harry, you wouldn’t be distracted from reading if someone levitated the chair you were sitting in.” Terry grinned.

It only took Harry ten minutes to read through the proposal, and then another five to duplicate the proposal and pen a letter to Bagnok. When he was finished he stood up from his desk and turned to face the room.

His roommates were all reading silently, but their attention switched to him immediately.

“Well?” Michael asked eagerly.

“It looks good.” Harry told them. “I’ve written a letter to Baknog, and I’ll sent it and your proposal to him in the morning. Do you want to read it?”

“Yes.” Anthony held out a hand pompously.

Harry grimaced inwardly as he handed the boy his letter. Sure Anthony had been reasonably decent about the whole things, but he was still a jerk most of the time.

Anthony read the letter silently before looking up. “It will do.”

“Thanks.” Harry rolled his eyes. “I’ll let you know when I get a reply.”

13-13-13

Luna followed Harry to the classroom again the next day and even though it had been his idea to invite her to hang out with them, he was still surprised to realise just how well she fit in. It wasn’t that she wasn’t weird, because she definitely was, but there just something about her that clicked. They talked about the potion to prank Lockhart that they were planning on starting that evening, as well as their plans to magically protect their classroom from other people.

“You should give it a name.” Luna commented dreamily.

Harry exchanged a confused glance with Draco. “Give what a name?”

“Your secret cave.” Luna answered.

“What would we name it though?” Draco asked.

“We could always just call it the Secret Cave.” Harry suggested.

Draco looked unconvinced. “Isn’t that a bit childish?”

“Well, do you have any better ideas?” Harry challenged.

“We could name it after something from Star Wars.” Draco suggested.

Harry grinned. “That’s a great idea

“What’s that?” Luna asked.

“It’s a form of muggle entertainment.” Draco told her. “They record plays and then screen them on a big wall.”

Luna’s eyes widened. “That sounds very exciting!”

“It is.” Draco agreed. “Maybe we can take you to one next summer.”

“Yes, please.” Luna agreed quickly. “I don’t think daddy would mind.”

“So what kind of name were you thinking of from Star Wars?” Harry asked Draco.

“We could call it the Death Star.” Draco suggested.

Harry frowned. “But that was the bad guys’ home.”

“What were the names of the other places then?”

Harry frowned in concentration. “Well, Yoda was on Dagobah, and Hoth was the one with all the snow…”

“That was the one with the Rebels’ secret base, right?” Draco interrupted. “That might work.”

“Hoth.” Luna sounded out, her tone almost musical. “I like it.”

The bell rang signalling the end of lunch and Harry stood up. “I like Hoth too.”

“Hoth it is then.” Draco looked pleased as he stood up as well.

“So we meet back here after dinner?” Harry asked. “And Draco will bring the potions ingredients?”

“Agreed.” Draco and Luna nodded in unison.

13-13-13

Since it was a Thursday, Harry met Neville and Takashi for their wandless magic practise after classes. The practise went much the same as it had the week before, though both Harry and Neville were faster at levitating the twig. Harry only took seven minutes the first time and Neville only ten. They still couldn’t keep the twig levitating when they came out of their mediation and Takashi still couldn’t do it at all.

It was a puzzling concept for Harry; both that Takashi couldn’t do it despite being older than them, and that Takashi didn’t seem at all surprised or disappointed by his inability to do it.

After dinner, Harry met Draco and Luna at Hoth and helped Draco unpack all the potions ingredients from his bag.

“We need to get the water boiling quickly.” Draco told them once all the ingredients were laid out on one of the desks. “Once the water’s boiling we’ll add the Peruvian Torch Cactus spikes and then let it simmer for twelve hours.”

Harry retrieved the cauldron from the corner and placed it on its stand, before kneeling to light the fire under it. Then he and Draco carefully measured the required ten litres of water while Luna watched with interest.

“It’s going to take ages for that water to heat up.” Harry pointed out once they were done.

“Can you heat the water with a spell?” Luna asked curiously.

“No.” Draco answered. “It would leave magical residue in the water. Besides, it’s only six thirty. We don’t need it to start boiling for at least half an hour. I’m the one doing the morning shifts and there is no way that I will be getting here before seven.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “It’s not that early.”

“Says the crazy person.” Draco retorted. “You’re the one who gets up at five thirty for no reason.”

“Are you crazy too, Harry?” Luna asked curiously.

“What?” Harry turned his head quickly to face her.

“People are always calling me crazy.” Luna replied lightly. “Are you crazy too?”

“Neither of us are crazy, Luna.” Harry told her seriously. “Who’s been calling you crazy?”

Luna waved a hand airily. “There’s nothing wrong with being crazy, you know.”

13-13-13

The next few days were pleasantly uneventful for Harry and, aside from having to care for the potion every evening, he spent his weekend doing his assignments, researching for the best spell to use to hide the door to Hoth, and playing games with his dorm mates.

It was nice to spend some uninterrupted time with Terry, Michael, and Rodney, even if it meant having to put up with Anthony’s sneers and scarcely veiled insults. They were all eagerly waiting for Baknog to reply to Harry’s letter, but after the third morning that they asked Harry about it he convinced them to be silently eager. Harry suspected that it would take Baknog at least a week to reply, since the goblin would need to get in touch with the chocolate shop first, and he really didn’t want his friends asking about it every day.

On Sunday afternoon, Harry spent a few hours with Draco, Theo and Daphne. He hadn’t seen much of them so far that year, mostly because of the time he and Draco spent researching and making the potions to prank Lockhart, and he had found that he actually missed them.

“So, Harry,” Theo started. “Will you be at the Malfoys’ Yule Party this year?”

Harry raised an eyebrow in Draco’s direction. “Draco, have you been holding out on me?”

“Of course not!” Draco told him scornfully. “Mother and father wanted to invite you, but traditionally any invitation has to go through your magical guardian.”

“Oh.” Harry grimaced. “That probably isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?” Theo asked curiously. “Who is your magical guardian?”

“Dumbledore.” Harry sighed. “Hopefully it will be transferred over to Sirius soon though.”

“Not that that would help.” Draco muttered under his breath.

“Dumbledore?” Theo asked. “Why him?”

“No idea.” Harry answered. “I only found out over the summer.”

“It seems unfair.” Daphne commented. “Shouldn’t your magical guardian be someone like Lord Malfoy?”

“One would think.” Harry agreed. “It doesn’t really matter though. It’s not as though he ever uses his guardianship to make my life harder.”

“No, he just doesn’t let you come to the Malfoy’s Yule Party.” Theo commented. “That sounds pretty terrible to me.”

“Have your parents actually sent the invitation?” Harry asked Draco.

“No,” Draco denied. “They didn’t think it would be worth it. He’s just going to say no.”

Harry sighed. “I guess. I can’t wait until I’m fifteen.”

“Maybe Lord Black will let you go next year.” Theo suggested.

“I doubt it.” Harry told him. “But we’ll see.”

13-13-13

Harry, Draco, and Luna spent the next few days continuing to care for the potion before and after their classes – counting down the days until they would be able to use it to prank Lockhart. Luna’s company certainly kept things interesting, though the more time Harry spent with her the easier he found her to understand. They wouldn’t let her help with the potion though, she’d admitted to them that potions wasn’t her best subject and they weren’t willing to risk her messing up the potion.

 Harry’s Ravenclaw friends were counting down the days too, each day eagerly anticipating a reply from Baknog and sighing with disappointment when the owls came and went without delivering a letter to Harry.

So when, on Wednesday morning, a large black owl swooped down and landed on the table in front of Harry, his friends excited exclamations were both expected and understandable.

“Is that it?” Michael asked through a mouthful of eggs.

“Eww!” Rodney complained, wiping a piece of egg off his hand. “That is disgusting! Swallow your mouthful.”

Michael pulled a face at him and swallowed. “You sound like my mother.”

“Well?” Terry asked as Harry retrieved the letter from the owl’s leg. “Is it the letter we’ve been waiting for?”

Harry looked the envelope over, taking in the Gringotts Stamp. “Yes, I think so.”

“Yes!” Michael pumped his fist. “Finally!”

“Open it, Harry!” Rodney added.

“Anthony isn’t here.” Terry pointed out. “We should wait for him.”

Michael and Rodney both groaned.

“How about we meet to talk about it after classes?” Harry suggested.

“We have Quidditch practise at five.” Terry reminded him.

“It doesn’t have to be a long meeting.” Harry pointed out. “We can meet straight after our last class and talk about what Baknog has said and, if we need more time, we can meet again after dinner.”

“Alright.” Michael sighed. “That sounds fair. We have Transfiguration last, so we’ll go up to our dorm straight after that.”

“But that’s over seven hours away.” Rodney groaned.

“We’ve been waiting for six days, we can wait another seven hours.” Terry told him briskly. “Hurry up and eat your breakfast. Our first class starts in ten minutes.”

13-13-13

The day seemed to crawl by at a painfully slow pace. It certainly didn’t help that their Herbology, Charms, and Transfiguration classes were entirely theory based. By the time the bell rang signalling the end of the Transfiguration, even Harry was having trouble paying attention.

“Come on!” Terry stood up quickly, quickly stuffing the notes he had taken into his bag. “Hurry up.”

Harry cast a spell to ensure that the ink on his notes was dry, before carefully placing them in his textbook to keep them safe. It probably only took an extra twenty seconds, but by the time he stood up Terry was scowling at him.

“Come on!”

“We’ve got plenty of time.” Harry pointed out as he hung his bag off his shoulder and followed Terry out of the classroom to where the rest of their dorm mates were waiting. “It’s only four, Quidditch Practise doesn’t start until five.”

“Just because you already know what the letter says!” Terry retorted irritably as they all set off for their dorm.

“Only vaguely.” Harry defended. “I just skimmed through it to make sure that he hadn’t included anything about my personal accounts.”

“And did he?” Rodney asked.

“No.”

It didn’t take them very long to reach their dorm and, upon entering, all the boys dragged their chairs away from their desks and positioned them into a circle. Once he was seated, Harry pulled the envelope out of his bag and took out the letter. When he looked up the other boys were all staring at him in anticipation.

“Well?” Michael asked.

“Do you want me to read you the letter?” Harry asked. “Or paraphrase it for you?”

“Paraphrase it.” Michael answered.

“Read it.” Anthony said at the same time.

“How about you paraphrase it for now and then let Anthony read it later?”  Terry suggested.

“Alright.” Harry cleared his throat nervously. “Baknog wrote to Claessens Chocolat and explained to them our proposal. He didn’t mention us by name, or how old we are. Basically he said that Gringotts had a client who was interested in selling the chocolate on small scale at Hogwarts and possibly in the future opening a branch of their store in England. Would they be interested in that kind of agreement.”

“What did they say?” Michael asked.

“They said yes.” Harry grinned. “There are still a few details that need to be ironed out, such as the percentage they would want from our sales, but Baknog is corresponding with them to work that out. There will be a contract we will need to sign, and it will probably take at least another month to get it all figured out, but other than that we’re good to go.”

Michael whooped loudly. “That’s awesome!”

“That’s incredible.” Rodney agreed. “I didn’t even know goblins did that kind of stuff for people.”

“They only do it for very rich people.” Anthony said sourly, though he did look pretty excited about the whole thing.

“So now what?” Terry asked Harry with a grin.

“I’ll give the letter to Anthony.” Harry said. “And he can read it while we’re at practise. There are a couple of specific questions that Baknog needs you guys to answer. Then we reply and tell him that we want to go ahead with it. He’ll write out the final proposal and contract for us to approve and sign.”

“We still need to get a prefect’s permission.” Terry reminded them. “This will have been a lot of work if the prefects end up saying no.”

“Takashi won’t say no.” Harry promised. “Particularly not since we’ve got all the details worked out. Besides, if the prefects say no we can always take it to Professor Flitwick.”


	15. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! Update day! I hope you are all as excited as I am, and I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

They finished the potion on Thursday night after dinner and it looked perfect – just like the Marauders’ Grimoire said that it should look. They then spent the evening carefully transferring the potion into ten small vials that Draco had bought and discussing the different ways that Lockhart could make a fool of himself because of the potion.

It was a risky plan. All the potion would do was amplify Lockhart’s voice as well as making him feel more inclined to share his secrets. The success of the prank relied not only on Lockhart having embarrassing secrets to share, but also on him ending up in a conversation that made him want to share them.

Once the potion was safely stored within the vials, they called Stompy and asked him to slip one of the vials into Lockhart’s drink at dinner the next day. Stompy was just as excited about the prospect as he had been about making Lockhart’s teeth fall out – the house elves seemed to really dislike like the man.

When Harry woke up the next morning he was so excited he felt like bouncing. What if this was the prank that managed to chase Lockhart away for good? He spent most of the day trying to hide his excitement from his friends and, while Terry did give him an odd look a couple of times, he was relatively successful.

When dinner time finally arrived, Harry pulled his friends away from their game of Exploding Snap and down to the Great Hall. There was no way he was going to be late and miss any part of the prank.

When they arrived at the Hall, Harry sat next to Rodney and tried not to stare at Lockhart in anticipation. After all, if this potion was anything like the last one, the excitement wouldn’t start until halfway through the meal.

“Who are the Holyhead Harpies playing tomorrow, Terry?” Michael asked once they’d served their dinner.

“The Kenmare Kestrels.” Terry answered.

Michael winced. “They’re top of the table at the moment, aren’t they?”

“Yeah, but the Harpies are only fourth on the table.” Terry told him. “It’s not like they’re at the bottom. Besides, the game is at the Holyhead Pitch, so that will give them an advantage.”

“I really love the way they’re all in the same division.” Lisa Turpin put in from her seat beside Michael. “In muggle sports the men and women are always in different divisions.”

“Why?” Terry asked in surprise.

“Because men are stronger than women.” Lisa explained. “And normally taller and bigger and more co-ordinated.”

“Don’t tell that to my sister.” Terry grinned. “She’d throw a fit.”

“I don’t think it’s so obvious in Quidditch.” Harry considered. “Instead of running, we’re flying broomsticks. But a team of men facing a team of women at football? The women wouldn’t stand a chance!”

“That’s not always true,” Lisa argued. “A team of skilled women could beat a team of unskilled men.”

“Good point.” Harry conceded.

“What’s football?” Michael asked curiously.

Lisa’s eyes widened. “How can you not know what football is?”

Michael leant away from her. “Uh, because I’ve never really been to the muggle world.”

“But you have Harry in your dorm!” Lisa protested. “Surely he talks about the muggle world sometimes.”

“I don’t actually.” Harry told her.

Terry gave Harry a funny look. “Most of the time I actually forget that you grew up in the muggle world.”

Harry nodded. “That’s the idea.”

“Why?” Lisa asked in a raised voice. “Are you ashamed of having grown up with muggles?”

“Of course he is.” Anthony grumbled. “He hangs out with Malfoy, doesn’t he?”

“And you’re so muggle friendly.” Harry snapped. “Tell me, Anthony, what’s football?”

Anthony just sneered at him.

“How can you hate muggles when you grew up with them?” Lisa asked him loudly.

Harry winced when half the hall seemed to turn and stare at them. “I don’t hate muggles. I just don’t feel that need to talk about them all the time. I don’t ever want to have to go back to the muggle world, I like it here.”

Lisa looked horrified. “But what about your family? Are you just going to cut them out of your life?”

“I really don’t think they’ll mind.” Harry told her flatly.

Lisa’s face was reddening. “Of course they’ll mind, they’re your family!”

“And then I had to put a Memory Charm on the girl of course.” Lockhart’s voice was suddenly amplified across the hall. “I couldn’t have her claiming that she was the one who had dealt with the banshee, now could I?”

Harry’s head swung around so that he could see Lockhart. The professor was sitting between Snape and Flitwick and seemed to be perfectly unaware that everyone in the hall was staring at him.

“What did he just say?” Terry asked in shock.

“I’m very proud of my Memory Charms.” Lockhart continued blithely. “Perhaps I ought to cover them in one of my classes next week. Perhaps my Seventh Year…”

Lockhart’s voice cut off as Professor Flitwick waved his wand towards him. From the lack of surprise on Lockhart’s face, Harry presumed that it was a spell to muffle the amplification aspect of the potion rather than a spell to stop him from talking.

Seconds later, orange writing appeared on the wall above Lockhart’s head just as it had for their previous two pranks.

“Oh, that makes sense.” Rodney commented quickly. “It wasn’t true, it was just a prank.”

“Unless the prank was to give him a truth potion or something.” Terry responded. “Look at the professors, they don’t seem convinced that it was all a lie.”

Harry looked back up at the Head Table, as Flitwick and McGonagall ushered Lockhart out of his seat and then out of the hall. Dumbledore watched them leave with a frown.

“Either way it was brilliant!” Michael grinned. “Did you see Dumbledore’s face? He looked like someone had just dropped a book on his head.”

Harry listened proudly as his friends excitedly discussed the prank. Draco had been right to presume that Lockhart had secrets, but who would have guessed that his secrets were so unlawful?

14-14-14

Lucius Malfoy allowed himself a pleased smile when he saw his son’s owl perched in the dining room and when he looked across at his wife he saw that she had a similar expression. Despite it being Draco’s second year at Hogwarts, they both missed their son significantly. They had even spoken of having a second child, though the threat of the Dark Lord’s possible return had so far prevented them from doing so. Neither of them wanted to risk Narcissa being in such a vulnerable situation when the Dark Lord returned.

Lucius pulled out a chair for Narcissa, before sitting in his own seat at the head of the table. Their breakfasts appeared in front of them the instant Lucius was seated, but as usual Narcissa ignored hers in favour for retrieving Draco’s letter.

“It’s addressed to you, dear.” Narcissa said, calmly passing the letter to him.

“Oh?” Lucius raised an eyebrow in surprise. Normally Draco addressed his letters to both of them or to Narcissa, Lucius couldn’t remember having ever received a letter from his son that was addressed solely to him. He set down his forkful of eggs and turned his attention to the envelope.

Narcissa silently passed him the letter knife that was always set beside her bread knife, before daintily cutting into her own breakfast.

Once he had slit open the envelope, Lucius withdrew the letter and unfolded it. “Shall I read it aloud?”

“Of course.” Narcissa nodded.

“Very well,” Lucius leant back in his chair. “Dear Father, it is my hope that you and mother are of good health. When Harry and I wrote mother about the cat being petrified her response suggested that you had not been informed of the fact. I am writing this letter to inform you of another incident that has occurred at Hogwarts in case Dumbledore decides not to inform the Board.”

Lucius could feel his stomach clench nervously. Surely it wasn’t another petrification! After the first incident, both he and Amelia Bones had made it very clear to Dumbledore that he had crossed a line by not informing them of such a serious event. As such, Dumbledore had informed both the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the Hogwarts’ Board when the caretaker was attacked. It would make no sense for Dumbledore to decide not to inform them about a third petrification. But what else could possibly have happened at Hogwarts that would prompt Draco to write to him?

“You will remember that I wrote to you and mother about some pranks that the ‘Marauders’ Apprentices’ have been playing on Professor Lockhart.” Lucius read aloud. “Well, there was another prank last night during which Lockhart’s voice was amplified just as he admitted to having performed a Memory Charm on the girl who actually fought the Banshee. I am not sure how the pranksters made Lockhart say those things, but I thought that you ought to be informed in case that it was truth spell.”

“A Memory Charm?” Narcissa asked faintly. “Lucius, if that’s true…”

“I need to speak to Amelia.” Lucius finished for her.

“Finish the letter first.” Narcissa admonished him. “It’s a Saturday, Amelia won’t even be at the office.”

Lucius made a sound expressing his disagreement, Amelia worked more Saturdays than she took off. He silently skimmed through the letter for any additional pieces of information that would be important to share with Amelia. When he had finished he handed the letter to Narcissa to read, before standing up.

“You could at least finish your breakfast.” Narcissa told him disapprovingly. “What is the wizard going to do? Perform a Memory Charm on every person in the castle?”

“Penby!” Lucius called for a house elf, before replying to his wife. “I will eat when I return.”

“Master Malfoy is calling Penby?” The aforementioned house elf asked as she appeared in front of him.

“I require my cloak.” Lucius told her firmly, before bending slightly to brush a kiss on Narcissa’s cheek. “I will return shortly, dear.”

“I will have the house elves place your breakfast in stasis.” Narcissa promised him. “Give Amelia my greetings.”

“Of course.” Lucius answered smoothly, before taking his cloak from Penby and striding out of the room.

The Ministry Atrium was quiet when he stepped out of one of the fireplaces, a circumstance that Lucius put down to it being a Saturday.

He hid his impatience as the security checked his wand, before taking an elevator up to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Once the elevator arrived, he strode passed the desks of the junior Aurors, ignoring the stares and sneers of the ones who had the dubious honour of being rostered to work the weekend, before finally striding past Amelia’s secretary’s desk and into her office.

“Mr. Malfoy!” The secretary protested, rushing after him into the office. “Sorry, Madame Bones. He just rushed right passed me.”

Lucius sneered at her and silently waited as Amelia soothed the woman before dismissing her.

“Merry meet, Lucius.” Amelia greeted him with a curtsey once the secretary was gone.

“Merry meet.” Lucius nodded to her, before sitting in one of the chairs near the desk.

“How can the DMLE help you today, Lucius?” Amelia asked him with the usual distaste that her expression always had when they interacted anywhere that they might be being watched.

“I received a letter from my son this morning.” Lucius informed her coldly.

Amelia arched an eyebrow. “No more petrifications at Hogwarts I hope.”

“No.” Lucius answered. “Apparently Gilderoy Lockhart admitted, to the entire school no less, to having performed an illegal Memory Charm on the witch who actually defeated the banshee.”

 “The banshee?” Amelia asked.

Lucius sneered at her. “I imagine he was referring to the banshee mentioned in his book ‘A Break with a Banshee’.”

“You’ve read it?” Amelia’s tone was mocking.

“Certainly not.” Lucius tightening his grasp around his cane in annoyance.

Amelia looked amused. “And did your son happen to report how Lockhart came to make such a confession?”

“A prank apparently.” Lucius told her. “There are some students who have declared war on Lockhart using pranks. They are calling themselves the Marauders’ Apprentices.”

“Really?” Amelia arched an eyebrow again. “And yet you believed this prank induced confession worth reporting?”

Lucius sneered at her. “It is worth an investigation, surely. On the slight chance that the prank mention involved some kind of truth potion.”

“Quite.” Amelia agreed briskly. “I shall have one of my aurors look into it.”

Lucius nodded in satisfaction as he stood up. “A pleasure as always.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed at the dryness of his tone. “Of course, Lucius. Merry part.”

“Merry part.” Lucius nodded to her sharply, before striding out of the office.

14-14-14

When Harry entered the Great Hall for dinner he searched the Ravenclaw table for his friends and almost groaned when he saw that Lisa was sitting with them again. While Lockhart’s confession the night before had distracted most of his friends from his and Lisa’s argument about muggles, Lisa had apparently not forgotten and had been shooting dark looks at him at breakfast. So far Harry had managed to avoid her by spending the day at Hoth, as well as spending a few hours with the Slytherins, but he supposed that he was going to have to talk to her at some point – they were in the same house after all.

He made his way towards where his friends were sitting an then slid into the empty seat beside Rodney, as far away from Lisa as he could get while still sitting with his friends.

“I haven’t seen you all day.” Rodney commented. “Where have you been?”

“With Draco and Luna.” Harry answered. “And we spent some time with the Slytherins too.”

Rodney grimaced uncomfortably.

“Wait, Luna?” Terry asked from across the table. “How did you convince Malfoy to spend time with Lovegood?”

“She’s his cousin.” Harry explained. “She’s actually really cool.”

“If by cool you meant completely insane, then yeah, definitely.” Anthony put in sarcastically.

Harry forced down his irritation. He couldn’t keep snapping at Anthony every time the other boy was a prat. “She’s my friend.” He replied evenly.

“Yeah, well, so are the Slytherins.” Anthony returned with a sneer. “You’re hardly the best judge of character.”

Harry clenched his teeth to prevent himself from snapping back.

“So, Harry,” Lisa said pointedly. “We never got to finish our conversation yesterday.”

“Didn’t we?” Harry asked evenly. He started breathing as he did for his mediation to try and find his calm place – he was definitely going to need it to get through dinner without snapping at someone.

“You know we didn’t!” Lisa frowned at him.

Harry sighed. “Listen, Lisa, I don’t have anything against muggles, but the ones I grew up with are pretty awful. I’m sure your family is nicer and I’m happy for you, but not all muggles are excited to hear that their relatives have magic. There is a reason that we have the Statute of Secrecy, you know.”

“If you don’t mind muggles, why do you hang out with Slytherins?” Lisa asked stridently. “And why don’t you talk about muggles things? You act like the purebloods!”

“Hey!” Anthony complained. “Don’t lump me in with him!”

“Firstly,” Harry said, ignoring Anthony. “I spent time with the Slytherins because they are my friends. I don’t make friends based on their political views, besides have you actually spoken to any of the Slytherins? They don’t all hate muggles!”

Anthony snorted disbelievingly. “Sure they don’t.”

“And secondly,” Harry continued, glaring at Anthony. “I don’t talk about muggles, because none of my dorm mates have ever indicated they’re interested in hearing about muggles. I’m not just going to go around constantly talking about something that my friends aren’t interested in hearing about.”

Admittedly, it wasn’t the only reason he didn’t talk about muggles. When Harry had found out that he was a wizard he had been all too willing to replace the muggle world with the magical one. If he got to live with Sirius this summer, Harry planned to never go to the muggle world again – except perhaps for entertainment purposes. But Lisa, and all the Ravenclaws who were listening in to their conversation, didn’t need to know that.

“It’s not that we’re not interested,” Terry said haltingly. “It’s just that we don’t really know anything about it.”

“And do you want to know more about it?” Harry asked him. “Because if you want to know about the muggle world all you have to do is ask me, but I’d much rather talk about the book I’m reading on Quidditch strategies.”

“But why?” Lisa asked plaintively. “We’re surrounded by magical things. Don’t you miss the muggle world?”

“No.” Harry answered. “And before you get all upset about that, it’s not because it’s not just as much of a legitimate and important culture as our one.”

Lisa still didn’t look particularly happy, but thankfully she was prevented from replying as Dumbledore chose that moment to call for everyone’s attention.

Dumbledore waited until the hall was quiet before beginning his announcement. “I regret to inform you that Professor Lockhart was arrested earlier today by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.”

As the students all began talking at once, Harry wished that he didn’t have his back to the Slytherin Table, he would have loved to be able to see Draco’s expression. Instead he settled for looking down at the table where Luna was grinning oddly at the headmaster.

“Quiet!” Dumbledore’s voiced echoed throughout the hall. “I will be working to acquire a new professor to fill the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, however, until a new professor is found all Defence Against the Dark Arts classes will be taken by your other professors.”

Harry scanned the Head Table and noted that the other professors didn’t look very pleased. Still, even Madame Hooch couldn’t be as bad at teaching DADA as Lockhart had been. This was definitely a victory for the Marauders’ Apprentices.

14-14-14

A few days later, Harry received a letter from Sirius.

_‘Harry,_

_Congratulations! I could hardly believe my eyes when I read your letter. You got your professor arrested? Stunning! Astounding! Inspiring!_

_Your dad, Remus and I never managed anything like that. We did our best to chase one of our classmates out of school, but he was a stubborn little snake – slimy too! I think I’ve told you about some of the pranks we pulled on him. If my memory is correct, we actually pulled the same prank on him as you just pulled on Lockhart. It wasn’t quite as effective. He didn’t admit to any crimes, more’s the pity, he just rambled on about his dad being a jerk or something._

_Anyway, I’ll write you a longer letter later. I just wanted to tell you that I’m proud of you, kiddo!_

_Good job!_

_Your godfather,_

_Sirius Black’_

Harry sighed as he put the letter back into the envelope. It seemed as though every letter that Sirius sent either had something negative about Slytherins or the Malfoys in it, or mentioned pranks that the Marauders had pulled that read an awful lot like bullying.

As much as Harry loved the idea of having a godfather, and of finally escaping the Dursleys and going to live with him, he really hoped that Sirius’ therapy helped him get over his anti-Slytherin and Malfoy bias and maybe made him less of a bully.

Harry was getting tired of feeling ashamed of his godfather after reading one of his letters.

14-14-14


	16. Chapter 15

Lockhart’s arrest was in the Daily Prophet the next day. The article quoted Lord Malfoy expressing his disappointment in Dumbledore’s decision to employ the man in the first place. Dumbledore had a quote in the article too, promising that he would find a new DADA professor as soon as possible.

Having the other professors teach their DADA class was interesting. Professor Sprout taught them on Monday and she spent the lesson teaching them how to defend themselves against dangerous plants. Then they had Professor Flitwick on Wednesday, Professor Babbling on Thursday and Professor Snape on Friday. The class the Snape took was definitely Harry’s favourite and he left the class feeling as though he had learnt more about Defence in that one hour than he’d learned from Quirrell and Lockhart combined. Harry hoped that the next DADA professor that Dumbledore hired would be as proficient as Snape was.

Draco, Harry and Luna spent their lunchtimes finishing their research on how exactly they were going to keep other people out of Hoth. It was a nice feeling not having any potions that they needed to finish, or professors that they needed to drive away.

By the end of the week Harry had found a spell that would hide the door to the room from anyone who didn’t already know it was there and Draco had found a strong locking spell, unfortunately neither of them had actually managed to cast either spell. Luna kept them company, often singing softly to herself as she read, and giggling at them when their attempts at the spells backfired.

In between practising the spells, they discussed ideas for their next prank. Lockhart might have been arrested but, not only was pranking far too much fun for them to stop, they still remembered the way the Weasley twins had not immediately denied being responsible for their first prank.

They didn’t want their prank on the Weasley twins to be as intense as their pranks on Lockhart had been, the Weasley twins didn’t deserve that, but neither did they want it to be any less brilliant.

“Do you remember the lecture that Snape gave in potions last month?” Harry asked during their lunchtime on Thursday.

“You’re going to have to be more specific than that.” Draco looked amused. “Uncle Severus gave a lot of lectures last month.”

“The one about Polyjuice potion.” Harry reminded him.

Draco frowned. “I don’t remember that one.”

“Well, maybe it wasn’t a whole lecture,” Harry admitted. “He mentioned it in his lecture on Bloomslang skin. It just stood out to me because I’ve used it before.”

“I remember that lecture.” Draco nodded. “What does the Polyjuice potion do?”

“Well, if I added one of your hairs to a vial of finished potions and then drank it,” Harry started.

“Eww!” Draco grimaced.

“I think it sounds yummy.” Luna chimed in from where she was sitting on a nearby desk. “Our hair is so pretty, Draco.”

“…I would turn into you.” Harry finished. “My face would be the same, along with my body, and even my voice.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“When I took it last year, I grew at least six inches.” Harry told him. “We could add one of the twin’s hairs to the potion and do something looking like them.”

“That’s perfect!” Draco exclaimed. “We’ll make it look as though they are doing something that they’re actually not, as a punishment for them having pretended to do something they didn’t.”

“What will you do?” Luna asked, her feet swinging back and forth.

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted. “Any ideas, Luna?”

15-15-15

Harry met with Neville and Takashi that afternoon for their weekly wandless magic practise. They met in an old abandoned classroom, since it was getting way too cold to spend much time outside. It was the fourth week that Takashi had joined them and he had yet to levitate the twig. Harry and Neville on the other hand could now levitate their twigs within one and two minutes respectively, though they still hadn’t managed to keep the twigs levitated when they came out of the meditation.

This practise went much the same as the previous three had, though they were using quills rather than twigs. After having spent an hour and a half levitating the quill over and over again, and then forty minutes watching as Neville levitated his quill like a yoyo and Takashi’s quill remained stationary, Harry couldn’t help but feel bad for the older boy.

“Don’t you get frustrated?” Harry asked Takashi when they had all finished and were walking down to dinner together.

“Why would I be frustrated?” Takashi asked him.

Harry felt awkward. “Because, you know, you haven’t manage to levitate anything yet.”

Takashi gave him a weird look. “My lack of progress is not unexpected.”

“But you’re older than us.” Neville chimed in. “You’re a fifth year!”

“Wandless magic is not about age.” Takashi told them. “You both know that. There are many adult wizards who could not levitate an object wandlessly – most wizards could not do it even if they practised every day for the rest of their life.”

“What?” Harry stopped in the corridor. “I knew it was rare, but I just presumed that was because most people don’t meditate.”

“For a person to cast spells wandlessly they must be very powerful.” Takashi explained. “The kind of power that is only seen in one wizard out of every hundred. My magic is powerful enough that I should be able to at least levitate a quill if I practise for long enough.”

Harry shared a look with Neville. “But I managed it in less than an hour.”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded. “And it only took me a week. I’m not that powerful.”

Takashi raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Are you not?”

“But that can’t be right.” Harry shook his head in disbelief. “We can’t be that powerful.”

“I thought you knew.” Takashi told him with a small frown. “Why else would you attempt wandless magic?”

“Because the first time I saw a goblin he wandlessly conjured me a money bag and I wanted to be able to that.” Harry explained weakly.

Takashi laughed. “Well, I suppose that is as good a reason as any.”

“I can’t be that powerful.” Neville said faintly. “My whole family thinks I’m practically a squib. They were surprised when I got my Hogwarts letter. I hardly did any accidental magic when I was a kid, you see, except the time I bounced when I was eight.”

“You bounced?” Harry asked him.

“Yeah,” Neville sighed. “Great-uncle Algie, that is the Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom, was hanging me out a window by my ankles, but he accidently dropped me, and I bounced. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Gran and Great-uncle Algie so pleased with me, well except for the day my Hogwarts letter arrived.”

Harry stared at his friend. “What? That’s awful!”

“It wasn’t that bad.” Neville shrugged awkwardly. “I did bounce.”

Takashi was frowning. “Your ability to wandlessly levitate the quill means that you are a powerful wizard, Neville, regardless of what your family believes.”

Neville shook his head slowly, though it seemed to be more out of amazement than disagreement. “I’m glad I didn’t know this stuff a few months ago. I never would have tried it if I had.”

They started walking in the direction of the Great Hall again and after a few seconds of silence, Harry spoke up. “I can’t believe your great uncle dropped you out of a window. Why didn’t your gran stop him?”

“I don’t think she was there.” Neville answered. “Well, either that or she didn’t care. I can’t really remember.”

Harry grimaced. As awful as the Dursleys were, and they were definitely horrible, at least they’d never dropped him out a window.

15-15-15

The next morning a Gringotts owl delivered the official business proposal and contracts that Baknog had drawn up for their chocolate business, much to Harry’s dorm mates’ delight. They spent breakfast poring over the documents and ooing and ahhing over how official it all looked. Then they gave Harry the task of getting Takashi’s approval for the plan.

Since it was a Friday, and they still didn’t have a new DADA teacher, Professor Snape took their DADA class that morning and it was just as smashing as it had been the week before. Snape spent the first part of the lesson teaching them the magical theory of a disarming spell and then moved the desks out of the way and gave them the rest of the lesson to practise it.

Harry was paired with Terry and couldn’t help but grin when he managed to get the other boy’s wand off him on his second attempt. The spell was so practical and seemed like a good spell to use when defusing a situation. After all, most wizards couldn’t cast spells without a wand. It did give Harry a greater feeling of urgency in regards to learning wandless magic though. He’d never considered the idea that someone could take his wand off him in a duel.

15-15-15

It wasn’t until the next morning, after their run, that Harry got an opportunity to mention the proposal to Takashi. Neville had joined them for the first half hour of their run, but, as his fitness level was still nowhere near theirs, he had left them to it.

Harry waited until they had both showered and were fully dressed, before asking for a minute of Takashi’s time.

“Certainly.” Takashi agreed, sitting on one of the benches.

Harry pulled a copy of the proposal out of his bag and handed it to Takashi. “My dorm mates want to start selling chocolate around the school, but they need a prefect’s permission.”

Takashi unrolled the parchment and then raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Did they write this?”

“No,” Harry shook his head. “I’ve agreed to be their investor, so we got the Baknog, the goblin who looks after my family’s accounts, to help them with it.”

“Do you mind leaving this with me?” Takashi asked. “I’m only a fifth year, so I’ll have to run it past one of the seventh year prefects.”

“Sure.” Harry agreed, he leant forward. “Do you think they’ll agree though?”

“I don’t see why they wouldn’t.” Takashi answered with a smile. “This is very impressive. They’ve obviously put a lot of effort into this.”

“Yes, well, Anthony and I told them that if they were going to do it, they might as well do it right.” Harry explained. “Anthony’s father has been teaching him about business.”

Takashi put the scroll in his bag and stood up. “Who has been teaching you?”

Harry followed him out of the changing rooms and towards the Great Hall. “Cousin Narcissa and Baknog. I spent about eight days learning about it over the summer.”

“That sounds awful.” Takashi told him.

“It was very boring at first.” Harry admitted. “But it got more interesting. I think that once I understand it all properly I’ll find it fun.”

“Fun?” Takashi asked in disbelief. “Really?”

“I think it’s good that I enjoy it.” Harry told him. “After all, in three years I’m going to be Head of the House of Potter and I’ll be responsible for all the investments and business that my family owns.”

“You can pay someone else to look after it though.” Takashi pointed out.

“I know.” Harry nodded. “And I will, at first at least – I need to finish Hogwarts. But afterwards, I think I would enjoy looking after it all.”

“So that’s what you want to be when you grow up?” Takashi asked him. “A businessman?”

“Cousin Narcissa told me that it’s what the Heads of the noble houses usually do.” Harry explained.

“It is.” Takashi agreed. “But they usual get to have a career first.”

“Because they don’t normally become the Head of House until they’re older.” Harry argued. “It’s not the same for me.”

Takashi sighed. “All I’m saying, is that you could appoint someone to manage over your accounts for a few decades if you wanted to be a healer or a curse breaker.”

Harry considered that. “I suppose, but what if I don’t want to be a healer or a curse breaker? What if I really do want to be a businessman?”

“Then be a businessman.” Takashi told him. “I just don’t want to you to only do it because you think you have to.”

15-15-15

The rest of the day went by quickly. Takashi returned the proposal, along with the permission they needed to sell chocolate in the school, that night. Harry’s dorm mates celebrated by signing the contracts and eating some chocolate. They then all walked up the owlery to send copies of the signed contracts to Baknog who would then arrange for the galleons that Harry was investing to be sent to them.

Harry spent most of Sunday at Hoth with Draco and Luna, researching polyjuice potion in a book that they had gotten out of the restricted section of the library – Luna had somehow managed to source them the appropriate permissions – and practising the spells to hide and lock the room.

By the time the dinner bell rang, Luna had written a list of ingredients needed for the potion and Draco had managed the locking spell, but Harry was still struggling with his spell. It was a weird feeling, having someone manage a spell before him, even if he theoretically knew that his spell was significantly more advanced than Draco’s one.

They gathered outside the door and watched as Draco cast the spell to lock it, assigning the password to be ‘rebel alliance’. Harry couldn’t help but grin – his cousin had turned into a complete geek.

They walked to the Great Hall together, before splitting up to sit in their usual places. Harry had only just sat down when Dumbledore called for their attention.

“I am delighted to announce your new Defence professor.” Dumbledore told them, though Harry thought his smile looked a little forced. “Or should I say professors.”

Harry looked towards the part of the Head Table where the DADA professor usually sat and observed the new witch and wizard sitting there. The witch actually had pink hair, which looked very out of place surrounded by the prim and proper Hogwarts professors, while the man was covered in scars and had a fake eye.

Dumbledore continued. “Madame Bones, who many of you will know to be the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, has consented to lend us a few of her aurors.”

“Brilliant!” Terry whispered excitedly.

“The aurors will alternate between teaching here and fulfilling their other duties so you are likely to have a different professor every two weeks.” Dumbledore continued. “OWL and NEWT classes will be taught by a senior auror, while the lower years will be taught by a junior auror. The first two aurors to join us are Auror Alastor Moody and Auror Nymphadora Tonks.”

Dumbledore turned towards the two aurors and began to clap, within seconds the rest of the staff and the students joined in. The Weasley twins performed their usual catcalls. The wizard, who Harry presumed was Auror Moody, nodded in acknowledgement, while the witch grinned happily and gave a small wave.

Once the clapping died now, Dumbledore announced dinner and instantly the food appeared in front of them.

“Aurors!” Terry grinned as he served himself a large spoonful of mashed potato. “That’s brilliant!”

“And not just any aurors,” Michael agreed. “Mad-Eye Moody!”

Harry looked back towards the aurors. “Is he famous?”

“He’s the most famous auror alive!” Michael answered exuberantly. “They say that half the dark wizards in Azkaban were caught by him, and they’re just the ones he brought in alive.”

Harry bit down his annoyance at Michael’s usual presumption that all criminals were dark wizards.

“Dad says he’s super paranoid these days though.” Rodney commented.

“You would be too if you’d made as many enemies as Mad-Eye has.” Michael told him.

Harry turned away from the aurors and served himself some stew. “Have you heard of the witch?”

“No,” Michael shook his head. “She’s definitely traditional though, look at her sleeves.”

Harry looked back at the Head Table and noted that the female auror’s sleeves were pulled up to her elbows.

“Just what we need.” Anthony grumbled. “Another stupid traditionalist.”

“Come on, Anthony.” Terry elbowed him. “Don’t be a prat. We don’t judge you for your beliefs do we?”

“You might not,” Anthony answered, glaring at Harry. “But that doesn’t meant that other people don’t.”

Harry took a large mouthful of stew and ignored him.

15-15-15

They had Defence class the next morning and Harry was a bit disappointed to see that Auror Tonks would be teaching them rather than Auror Moody. It made sense, Dumbledore had said that the junior aurors would be teaching the first through to fourth years, but Harry would have loved to have been taught by Moody.

“Come in everyone.” Auror Tonks greeted them brightly from where she was sitting on the professor’s desk. “Take a seat.” Once everyone was seated, she hopped off the desk and curtsied to Harry, and then to Draco. “Merry meet.” The curtsey was graceful at first, right up until she almost fell over and had to steady herself against the desk.

Harry nodded to her, forcing his amused smile down.

Auror Tonks beamed at them and then hopped back up onto the desk. “And merry meet to all of you as well.” She said. “I’m Auror Tonks and I’m going to be teaching you for the next two weeks. I’m going to be honest with you all, I’m not actually an auror yet – I’m a trainee – but that doesn’t meant that I don’t have plenty that I can teach you.”

Her hair suddenly turned bright purple and Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Also, I’m a metamorph.” Tonks continued. “Which basically means that I can change the way I look just by thinking about it. So don’t freak out, or get distracted, if my hair suddenly changes colour in the middle of class.”

Harry looked across at Draco, who he was sharing a desk with, and saw that his cousin was studying the auror intently.

“Now,” Tonks flicked her wrist and her wand suddenly appeared in her hand. A couple of motions with the wand later and two huge piles of books that had been sitting on the desk behind her suddenly floated towards them. When the piles passed the first by the first line of desks, books flew off the pile and landed on the desks. Harry was impressed, he’d only ever seen Professor Flitwick do anything like it.

“There has been a new textbook assigned for this class.” Tonks continued. “Now, I’m aware that you have already bought seven books for this class this year, so Hogwarts’ Board of Governors have generously agreed to pay for the new textbooks.”

Harry looked at the textbook that had landed on his desk and saw that it was similar to the one they’d been assigned the year before, only more advanced.

“Unfortunately, from what I’ve heard, you lot are a bit behind, so the rest of the year is going to require a bit of extra work to catch up.” Tonks told them. “And before you decide to blame me, it’s not my fault. I’m just doing what I’m told, same as you.”

Harry listened to the groans of some of his classmates, but couldn’t bring himself to feel even a little annoyed by the prospect. Harry was completely on board with the idea of extra work, so long as he learnt something in the process.

15-15-15

 


	17. Chapter 16

Auror Tonks had definitely not been lying about the extra work they would need to do to catch up and, by the end of the first week with her as a professor, even Harry was feeling a little worn out. It wasn’t all bad though, her classes were never boring and they were learning a lot. She had even hinted that if they worked hard enough they might be allowed to actually try some practise duels in the New Year.

Still, the extra work was taking some time to get used to and when Harry’s alarm went off at five thirty on Saturday morning he seriously considered going to back to sleep. It was a tempting thought, but he knew that it would mean he wouldn’t have time to practise his Occlumency so he pulled himself upright with a groan.

He had been practising his Occlumency daily for almost ten weeks now and he was finally starting to see some real progress. When he had first started, his memories had been completely jumbled up. Even when he tried to sort them out, they would still revert back to their original confusion. Now though, his memories were a lot more organised. He had still had a long way to go – he did have twelve years’ worth of memories to sort out – but they’d stopped turning back into an unorganised mess whenever he was sleeping.

He was still nowhere close to learning how to actually defend his mind though. The book that Snape had lent him on the subject said that he had to completely sort out his memories first. Harry was just glad that he hadn’t waited until he was older to learn Occlumency. He could only imagine how long it would take someone in their forties to organise all their memories.

Still the library that he was building in his mind was really taking shape and Harry estimated that about a third of his memories had been converted into books and put onto the waiting shelves.

Harry rubbed his eyes to try and wake himself up, before closing them again and adjusting his breathing to help himself sink into his meditation. He was really looking forward to finishing the organisation part of the process and moving onto creating the defences for his mind.

16-16-16

Most of Harry’s Saturday ended up being taken up by Quidditch practise and then the DADA essay that was due on Monday. Tonks had assigned them each a different spell and told them to research it thoroughly. Harry had been assigned a spell named Tarantallegra which would make the target’s legs dance around crazily. He’d been a bit disappointed at first, particularly when he found out that Terry had been given the Tripping Hex and Michael had been given the Impediment Curse, but that had disappeared soon after he began his research.

The Tarantallegra spell was fascinating and the theory behind it even more so. In the end Harry’s essay ended up being ten feet long, a good four feet longer than any of the other second year Ravenclaws, and he couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for Auror Tonks who would have to mark it. Though it probably served her right for not having given them a maximum length.

He spent that evening playing chess with Terry and then Exploding Snap and Gobstones with the rest of his dorm mates. It was always nice to spend some time with them and, most importantly, it would make them less likely to get upset with him when he spent most of Sunday with Draco and Luna.

It was the annoying thing about having different groups of friends who didn’t get along. Harry spent the hour before breakfast running with Takashi and Neville, and well as their wandless magic practise every Thursday afternoon; he spent lunch times and Sundays at Hoth with Draco and Luna; and the other meals, evenings and Saturdays with his Ravenclaw friends.

Of course the schedule got a little more complicated when Harry and Draco were planning a prank – then he often spent his evenings at Hoth too.

Despite having spent all of Saturday with his dorm mates, they still gave him disapproving looks the next morning when he left the breakfast table.

Harry barely managed to prevent himself from sighing in frustration. “Have a good day.”

“Thanks.” Terry nodded before reluctantly adding, “You too.”

Neither Draco nor Luna had arrived when Harry got to Hoth so he pulled out his wand and started practising the spell to hide the door to the room. He had been trying the spell for two weeks and still hadn’t managed it – which was a record for him. The problem was that the spell was very advanced, way more so than anything he’d done previously. He was pretty sure he was close though and he was determined to manage it before the end of the day.

Draco arrived fifteen minutes later and sighed when he saw what Harry was doing. “Maybe you should find an easier spell?”

“No,” Harry shook his head firmly. “I’m going to get this!”

“Alright, no need to snap at me.” Draco said, looking more amused than anything. “We are still starting the polyjuice potion today though, right?”

“Definitely.” Harry agreed, before attempting the spell again.

Luna arrived a few minutes later and instantly began removing the polyjuice potion ingredients from her bag. While Draco and Harry were the ones who had paid for them, she’d offered to be the one to actually order them since no one would be suspicious if an owl brought her a large parcel – people would just pass it off as another of her oddities.

Harry continued attempting the spell, but he was aware of Draco and Luna moving around some of the desks in the room to create an area where they would permanently keep all of their extracurricular potion ingredients. It was one of the great things about having found a way to lock, and soon hide, the door to Hoth – they could start keeping things in the room.

It was almost an hour later that Harry attempted the spell yet again and then saw the desk in front of him suddenly shimmer.

“I did it!” He shouted excitedly, turning to Draco and Luna who were halfway through a game of chess.

Draco looked at where the desk was and then back at Harry. “Are you sure? Because it doesn’t look any different.”

“Yes, I’m sure.” Harry defended. “It only doesn’t look different to you because you already know the desk is there.”

“Oh thank Merlin,” Draco told him. “I was beginning to think it would take you all year.”

Luna looked a lot more enthusiastic. “How wonderful! Now our secret cave will be completely protected from the nargles.”

“Do you think you could do it again?” Draco asked.

“I’m sure of it.” Harry answered, already heading for the door. “It might take me a few tries though.”

It took him ten more tries, with Draco making disparaging comments after each failure, to cast the spell properly on the door to Hoth, but finally it was done and their room was as protected as they could make it.

“This calls for a celebration.” Draco announced as they all made their way back into the room.

Harry looked around the room sceptically. “Like what?” They may have managed to protect the classroom, but it was still just a room with desks and chairs. They didn’t even have any food or drink in it. That, along with nicer furniture, was next on their list of things to do. Well, right after the polyjuice potion.

“Maybe your house elf will bring us some cake.” Draco suggested.

“He’s not my house elf.” Harry corrected. “He’s a Hogwarts’ elf, he’s my friend.”

Draco waved a hand dismissively. “Either way, you should ask him to bring us some cake.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Stompy?”

Stompy appeared in front of him with a quiet pop. “Master Harry Potter is calling Stompy?”

“Yes,” Harry smiled at him. “How are you?”

Draco pulled an exasperated face, as he always did when Harry’s offered the house elf common courtesy, and he called Luna’s attention back towards their chess game.

“Stompy is being very well, Master Harry Potter sir.” Stompy bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. “How is Master Harry Potter being?”

“I’m smashing.” Harry told him with a grin. “I just managed to do a spell that I’ve been working on for weeks.”

Stompy looked towards the door. “Stompy is seeing. Is Master Harry Potter wanting Stompy to help hide the door too?”

Harry’s eyes widened and he could see Draco looking just as interested. “You can do that?”

“Of course.” Stompy looked slightly put out. “Is Master Harry Potter wishing Stompy to?”

“Sure!” Harry nodded quickly. “I mean, if you want to that is.”

Stompy looked towards the door again and snapped his fingers. “No wizards be finding this room now, Master Harry Potter sir, well, excepting from Headmaster Dumbledore.”

“Thanks, Stompy!” Harry grinned thankfully. “That’s amazing.”

“Stompy is being happy to help.” Stompy told him with a toothy grin. “Is Master Harry Potter having another job for Stompy?”

“Well,” Harry had a sudden thought. “I actually wanted to ask you if you could bring us some cake to celebrate us having hidden Hoth, but do you know where we could find some old furniture to put in here?”

“Hoth?” Stompy’s head tilted to the side.

“Oh,” Harry felt a bit embarrassed. “That’s what we called this room. It’s from a muggle play.”

Stompy nodded in understanding. “Stompy can get cake and furniture. The Come and Go Room will have furniture. What furniture is Master Harry Potter wanting?”

Harry looked towards Draco and Luna for help. He had no idea what kind of furniture they wanted. They hadn’t actually talked about it yet.

“Could we look around the Come and Go Room and pick out our own furniture?” Luna asked, her head tilted to the side in interest.

 “Stompy can be taking you there now?” The house elf offered with wide eyes.

Harry looked towards Draco.

“Certainly.” Draco answered pompously as he stood up.

“Stompy will be meeting Master Harry Potter and friends in the second corridor of the seventh floor.” Stompy told them before vanishing with a quiet pop.

“Do you know what I think is amusing?” Draco asked Harry as they left the classroom.

“What?” Harry asked, turning back to look at the door. He couldn’t see anything different about it.

“After all those hours of you practising that spell, the house elf just snapped his fingers and made it inconsequential.” Draco pointed out with obvious amusement.

Harry glared at him. “At least now I can cast that spell. What do you think Stompy did to the door?”

“He hid it from the nargles.” Luna answered simply. “Even the very clever ones.”

Stompy was already waiting for them when they got to the right corridor on the second floor and he waved Harry forward until he was standing in front of a portrait of a wizard trying to teach trolls how to dance.

“Now think about what you is looking for.” Stompy instructed. “And walk back and forth three times.”

Harry did as he was told and was amazed to see a door suddenly appear in the wall across from the portrait.

“Stompy be going now.” Stompy informed them.

“But how will you know which pieces of furniture we pick?” Harry asked quickly before the elf could disappear.

“If you be marking them, Stompy will know.” Stompy answered and then disappeared again.

Harry stepped forward and pushed open the door that had appeared in the wall. “What the…”

“What is it?” Draco asked, pushing Harry forward so that he could have a look. “Oh.”

The room was huge, at least the size of the Great Hall, and filled with piles and piles of junk. Harry could see some broken frames, some pieces of armour and at least ten rusted swords.

“There is no way I am going in there.” Draco said with disgust. “Look at that dust! And all the furniture is probably infested with doxies!”

“Don’t be silly.” Luna told him, pushing past them both. “Look at all the treasures!”

Harry looked around sceptically, pausing with interest when he spotted a pile of books.

“But it’s all broken, Luna.” Draco said, his tone dangerously close to whine. “Look at that chair, it only has two legs.”

“It will be like a treasure hunt.” Luna told him brightly. “It will be fun!”

16-16-16

It took them a couple of hours, but eventually they managed to find the perfect pieces of furniture for their room. There was a cabinet that would hold their potions ingredients, a green couch with some matching armchairs, and some bookcases. Most of the furniture was at least a little broken, the couch was missing a leg, one of the armchairs had a hole in it, and the door of the cabinet was hanging by one hinge, but Luna had assured them that Stompy should be able to fix it all for them.

By the time they had marked all the furniture they wanted, and Harry had silently promised the piles of books that he would be back to look through them, the lunch bell had rung and they all made their way down to the Great Hall to eat.

Harry’s dorm mates weren’t there yet, so Harry took the opportunity to sit with Luna – an action that prompted the other Ravenclaw first years to stare at them and whisper among themselves. Terry and Michael arrived a few minutes later and slid into the two empty seats opposite them.

“Luna, have you met Terry and Michael?” Harry questioned.

“No.” Luna shook her head and Harry winced when her hair it him across the face.

“Well, Luna, this is Terry Boot and Michael Corner.” Harry introduced. “Terry, Michael, this is Luna Lovegood.”

“Merry meet.” Terry and Michael both nodded to her.

“Merry meet.” Luna smiled dreamily.

“Have you guys had a good morning?” Harry asked.

“No,” Terry grimaced. “We were finishing that stupid DADA essay.”

“At least now we’ve got the afternoon in which to do no homework.” Michael comforted his friend, before turning back to Harry. “We’re going flying if you want to join us.”

“Thanks,” Harry told him. “But I’ve got plans with Draco and Luna.”

“I figured.” Terry commented.

“What’s she doing here?” Anthony asked as he and Rodney dropped into seats beside Terry.

“She’s my friend.” Harry told him warningly. “And we were here first. You can go sit somewhere else if you don’t like it.”

Anthony sneered at him and then turned his attention to the sandwiches in the centre of the table.

The rest of lunch was awkward and Harry couldn’t help but feel angry at his Ravenclaw friends for being so unreasonable about Luna. He knew it was mostly Anthony’s fault, he was the one who kept making snide comments, but he hated the way his friends didn’t get along.

He sort of understood why the Ravenclaws and Neville didn’t like Draco. They’d been brought up believing that dark wizards were evil and that the Malfoys had supported Voldemort. But Luna wasn’t even remotely dark and her family had never been connected to the Death Eaters. There was absolutely no reason why they couldn’t be nice to her.

After lunch, Harry and Luna met Draco outside the Great Hall and they walked back to Hoth together. Once there Draco gave the password and the door swung open to reveal a completely different room to the one they had left. Most of the desks were gone, though there still five pushed against the walls, and in their place was the furniture they had chosen from the Come and Go Room.

“Wow!” Harry commented as he walked into the room and ran a hand over the couch. “Look, it’s all fixed. There isn’t even a hole in that armchair anymore.”

Draco looked around the room. “Stompy does quick work.”

Luna ran into the room and practically threw herself onto the couch, bouncing slightly when she landed. “It’s so comfy.”

“Look at this!” Draco said suddenly from the corner of the room where they normally made the potions. “He even put our potions ingredients in the cabinet.”

“Stompy?” Harry called as he sat down on one of their new armchairs.

The house elf appeared with quiet pop. “Master Harry Potter is wanting Stompy?”

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Harry told him. “This is amazing!”

Stompy’s entirely body quivered excitedly. “Master Harry Potter is welcome. Stompy is bringing something else for Master Harry Potter and friends.”

“Oh?” Harry asked, ignoring Draco’s put out expression at Stompy’s phrasing.

Stompy clicked his fingers again and a chocolate cake appeared in his other hand. “Master Harry Potter is asking for cake?”

Harry beamed at him. “Thank you so much, Stompy. You’re amazing!”

Stompy gave Harry a toothy smile, before handing him the cake and disappearing.

Harry placed the cake carefully on the desk furthest from the potions area and then turned to his friends. “Should we start the potion now?”

“What about the cake?” Draco protested.

“We just had lunch.” Harry reminded him. “How about we eat it for afternoon tea?”

16-16-16

Spending time in Hoth had always been something Harry enjoyed, but it was even better now that the room had comfortable seats. It was nice to know that room was secure too. There was something reassuring about knowing that nobody would walk in on them and tell them off for using the room – particularly with the polyjuice potion bubbling in the corner.

The polyjuice potion was really complicated, though no more so than the last few potions they had used to prank Lockhart, and it was going to take them a month and a half to make which gave them a lot of time to make a mistake. Well, a lot of time for Harry to make a mistake, since the most complicated parts of the potion would need to be done while Luna and Draco were away for Christmas break. Still, as complicated as the potion was, at least it didn’t require them to add ingredients and stir it multiple times a day like their last potion had.

This was particularly good as there was only one week left until Christmas break and their professors had apparently decided to make the week count. Not only were the classes intense, but each of the professors had assigned them an essay that was due the next Monday when the Hogwarts’ Express took most of the students home for Christmas.

Harry was staying at Hogwarts again and he wasn’t even pretending to be sad about that fact. He was disappointed that he wouldn’t be able to go to the Malfoys’ Yule Party, but two weeks of quiet, in which he could read as many books as he wanted, was exactly his idea of an ideal holiday.

16-16-16

Nymphadora Tonks frowned disapprovingly at two first year Hufflepuffs who were whispering to each other instead of working. It was hard to believe that she was actually a Hogwarts professor! Well, okay, not exactly a Hogwarts professor. She was still a trainee auror, but when she had graduated from Hogwarts she had definitely not expected that she would come back and actually teach classes. It was weird, being the authority figure who frowned disapprovingly at misbehaving students – it had only been a year and a half since she had been a misbehaving student.

Still, it was sort of fun teaching the kids basic defence spells. She knew that she was enjoying it more than Moody was, he spent every evening grumbling about their orders and complaining about the students. To be fair, from what she’d heard, the students were complaining about him just as much. Moody was not, by anyone’s standards, a patient teacher.

She wasn’t sure why she enjoyed it so much. Perhaps it was because she was still so excited at being accepted as an auror trainee that she found everything exciting, but she thought it was probably because she knew what an honour it was that she had been picked to take the first shift at Hogwarts. (Admittedly, that probably had more to do with them wanting Moody, who was her mentor, than anything to do with her, but still it was an honour.)

It was a good plan too. She hadn’t known that it was possible for her to respect Lady Bones any more than she already had. The Department of Magical Law Enforcement director was definitely her hero, but hearing the reason for their assignment at Hogwarts had definitely increased her hero worship of the woman.

Apparently there was a large snake running (Sliding? Slithering?) around Hogwarts petrifying cats and professors, but Dumbledore didn’t want to let anyone from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement or the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures involved. Which was just stupid if you asked Tonks, not that anyone had. Though she could definitely tell that Lady Bones agreed with her. Which was why Lady Bones had offered to lend some of her aurors to Dumbledore to fill the DADA professor position. It a) ensured that there were aurors onsite to investigate the petrifications and b) stopped Dumbledore from hiring another complete idiot. (Alright, Lady Bones was probably only worried about the first point. The second point was probably a result of the seven awful DADA professors that Tonks had had when she was at Hogwarts.)

It was a great idea though and it was working well. Tonks wasn’t sure how Lady Bones knew that the creature was a snake, but with that information, along with the fact that roosters were being killed, Tonks and Moody were pretty sure that it was actually a basilisk. So, maybe Moody was the one who realised it was a basilisk, but Tonks had been there when he’d figured it out.

And wasn’t that just a cheery thought? There was a bloody basilisk in a school filled with children!

Tonks frowned at the two Hufflepuffs who had started whispering again and mentally began preparing a speech threatening to separate them. Merlin, who would have thought that one day she would be delivering that speech instead of just receiving it?

“Auror Tonks?” An older Gryffindor stuck his head around the door. “Auror Moody says he needs you on the third floor. Apparently it’s urgent.”

Tonks stood up abruptly and winced when her chair fell over with a clatter. “Right well, you,” She pointed at the older Gryffindor. “Stay here and supervise them. They’re supposed to be reading chapter three and writing down any questions they might have. No talking allowed.”

The Gryffindor looked taken aback. “What? But…”

“No buts.” Tonks said, wincing again when she realised how much she sounded like her mother. “I’ll be back. Probably. If I’m not, their assigned homework in on the parchment on my desk.”

Tonks left the room at the run, aiming for the staircases. She ignored the first staircase, knowing that it was one of the ones that liked to take you anywhere except where you wanted to go, and instead bounded up the second one – lengthening her legs so she could take three steps at a time.

Moody was waiting for at the top of the stairs. “Took you long enough.” He growled impatiently.

“What’s up?” Tonks asked.

“The Care of Magical Creatures professor activated the stone I gave him.” Moody told her.

Tonks’ eyes widened. That meant that another rooster was dead, which mean that there was probably going to be another attack. It definitely explained why they were on the third floor where both the previous attacks had taken place.

“You go left.” Moody instructed her. “Remember…”

“CONSTANT VIGILANCE!” Tonks chorused with him. “Got it, boss.”

She pulled a rooster out of her pocket, feeling a bit like Hagrid as she did so, and spelled it awake. Moody was doing the same.

Then she cautiously turned to her left and began walking down the corridor. It seemed silly, to be chasing a giant snake with a rooster (and an unhappy rooster at that), but, according to the expert that Moody had spoken to, roosters were the most effective method of killing a basilisk.

Tonks moved slowly through the corridor, trying not to jump at every little shadow and noise. Why had she wanted to be an auror again? Who sent a witch who wasn’t even halfway through her training after a basilisk on her own? Mad-Eye Moody that’s who. Which, incidentally, was the reason Tonks had been so thrilled when he was assigned as her mentor. But in that moment, when a basilisk could appear out of nowhere and try and kill her, she wished she’d been assigned someone sane – like Shacklebolt. Shacklebolt was sane.

 

 


	18. Chapter 17

Harry woke up on the Thursday morning before Christmas break to find that the snow, that had begun falling the night before, had turned into a full blown blizzard. Unfortunately this meant that his, Takashi’s and Neville’s morning run was definitely cancelled. Instead, Harry curled up in an armchair in the Common Room and read the first couple of chapters of a book on Ancient Runes.

The blizzard was still going by the time classes started and Terry and Rodney spent the trek down to the potions classroom complaining how unfair it was that the second year Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs got the morning off – since Professor Sprout had apparently cancelled their Herbology class.

Harry didn’t say anything since he doubted they would appreciate knowing that he would have been disappointed if Snape had decided to cancel their class. A canceled class meant either missing the chance to learn something or two classes worth of information crammed into one sometime in the future.

Terry and Rodney were still complaining about the unfairness of it all when they sat down at the Ravenclaw Table for lunch and they had gotten Michael and Anthony on board with their frustration as well. Harry thought that probably had something to do with the fact their potion had ended up more green than blue.

After a few minutes the second year girls sat near them, all looking very excited. Harry was just glad for the distraction.

“Did you hear?” Padma asked.

“Hear what?”

“Something happened on the third floor!” Sue Li answered for her friend.

“We don’t know the whole story yet,” Lisa Turpin said. “But apparently the aurors were involved.”

“How do you know?” Michael asked sceptically. “You were in potions with us.”

“We were just talking to Parvati.” Padma explained. “And she heard it from some of the upper years.”

Sue leaned forward. “Apparently Auror Moody ran out of his fourth year Gryffindor and Slytherin class and sent Lee Jordan to tell Auror Tonks to meet him on the third floor.”

Harry waited for them to continue, frowning when they didn’t. “What happened then?”

“We don’t know.” Padma admitted. “That was all Parvati told us.”

“Seriously?” Michael asked. “How is that even a story?”

16-16-16

By the end of the day there were dozens of rumours flying around about what the aurors had been doing on the third floor. The only one that sounded even remotely likely came from Luna, who told Harry and Draco that aurors had used a pre-roast dinner to scare off a lame reptile.

Admittedly it wasn’t the most realistic sounding story but, seeing as how she was a seer and Harry knew that there was a giant snake slithering around Hogwarts, Harry was going with her story.

The rumours became even more outrageous the next day, including one where Moody and Tonks were having some kind of affair and had a secret lovechild hidden somewhere on the third floor, but by Sunday the school had mostly turned their attention to the fact that Christmas Break started the next day.

Harry’s dorm mates alternated between talking excited about their families’ plans and feeling guilty about doing so in front of Harry who was staying at Hogwarts. Harry alternated between enjoying his friends company and looking forward to them leaving so he could get some peace and quiet.

The Hogwarts Express left at exactly eleven o’clock on Monday morning and Harry spent the first hour sitting in front of the fire in the Ravenclaw Common Room, amazed at how quiet it was. Unlike the year before, Harry was the only Ravenclaw who was staying over the holidays. There were four Gryffindors, two Slytherins, and three Hufflepuffs (all of whom were from the same family), but not a single other Ravenclaw had decided to stay and Harry was delighted.

Lunch was awkward – with all ten students being forced to sit together, despite the fact that most of them didn’t know each other. Harry thought it was probably hardest for him, being the only Ravenclaw, but it was definitely worth the quiet Common Room.

After he’d eaten, Harry made his way up to the Seventh Floor and into the Come and Go Room. The first time he’d been there he’d promised himself that he would come back and look through all the books and Christmas Break seemed to be the perfect time to do it.

Harry pushed the door of the room open and smirked when he saw the piles of books scattered around the room. There looked to be thousands of books, it was like walking into a free second hand bookstore and having it all to himself.

17-17-17

It took Harry two and a half days of solid work, stopping only for sleep, meals, and to look after the polyjuice potion, to go through all the books and in the end there were four hundred and thirty four of them that he wanted to take with him – far too many to fit in his trunk. He knew it was ridiculous, after all, when was he going to read them all? But they were so interesting, and some of them were very old!

Harry stacked the books he had chosen in piles in one of the corners of the room and, after having double checked with Stompy that he was allowed to take them, wrote a letter to Draco requesting that he bring Harry back another trunk, specifically to hold hundreds of books, and promising to pay him back.

Draco’s reply was more amused than anything, he didn’t understand how Harry enjoyed reading so much, but he promised to see what he could do.

It was hard to leave the books there – what if someone came and took some of them? – but in the end Harry forced himself to only choose five to take for now. After all, he could always come back and get another five if he finished them before Draco brought him his new trunk.

The first book he chose to read was one on parselmagic. It was a huge book, easily bigger than the two parselmagic books that Takashi and Draco had lent him combined, and was filled with different spells. At first, Harry copied down every spell that interested him, but he gave up when he realised that he was copying down over half the book.

After dinner on Christmas Eve, Harry curled up in an armchair in front of the fire with the book in his lap and read for hours. He considered going to bed when the clock struck midnight, but then he read the title of the next spell and got caught up in the book again.

It wasn’t until three thirty, after his vision had started going a bit blurry, that he eventually convinced himself to go to bed. Sarko and Sativa hissed in irritation when his lumos spell disturbed them, but they soon settled back to sleep once Harry had crawled into bed and extinguished the light. Once he was in bed though, he just didn’t feel like sleeping. There were just so many new spells running through his head: a spell to get rid of bruises, a spell to create an invisible shield, a spell to lock something so that only the blood of a parselmouth could open it…

Harry was sitting in large armchair that dwarfed him and there was a large snake lying beside him on the chair.

“Excuses, Wormtail?” Harry asked dangerously.

The pudgy man who was shuddering on floor in front of the floor began to mutter. “Sorry, master, sorry, sorry…”

“I grow tired of your apologies.” Harry told him coldly. “Just as I grow tired of your failures.”

“His house was defended, master.” Wormtail explained. “His dustbins attacked me.”

“Crucio!” Harry held the wizard under the curse for a full minute, enjoying the sound of his screams. Once he released the curse, Harry watched the man shudder for another minute before speaking again. “First you failed to bring me the boy and now you fail to bring me a replacement. Are you truly so incompetent, Wormtail? Or is it your loyalty that is lacking?”

Wormtail clambered to his knees, shaking his head desperately. “I am loyal to you, master! Did I not come and find you? Do I not serve you?”

“You found me out of cowardice.” Harry hissed at him. “Do not pretend that it was out of any sense of loyalty.”

“Please, master,” Wormtail’s voice trembled. “I am loyal only to you.”

Harry considered him. “We shall see. Crucio!”

Harry jerked awake, a hand pressed to his burning scar.

: _Are you alright, nestling?:_ Sativa’s worried voice eventually registered with his mind.

: _Fine:_ Harry answered shortly. : _It was just a nightmare:_

Except he wasn’t convinced that it was a nightmare. That was the third dream he’d had with the pudgy man named Wormtail and whoever it was that Harry always turned into. There was something terrifyingly real about it, besides which, Healer Axecure – the goblin healer who was investigating his scar – certainly seemed to think there some kind of connection between his dreams and his scar.

Harry lay back down and rubbed hard at his scar. There had been something familiar about Wormtail, and not just from his past dreams. Harry wasn’t sure what it was about the man, but…

Harry bolted upright again. Wormtail! Like from the front of the Marauders’ Grimoire that talked about Padfoot, Prongs, Wormtail and Moony. Sirius hadn’t actually told him anything about the names, except to say that they were nicknames that he, Harry’s dad, and their two other friends had called each other. Surely the Wormtail in his dream couldn’t be the same Wormtail who had been friends with his dad. Except according to Sirius they were all still alive – excepting Harry’s dad of course – and one of them had betrayed his parents to Voldemort.

Lying back down, Harry tried to figure out what to do. Should he write to Sirius and tell him about his dream? Harry instantly disregarded that idea. Sirius was prejudiced against anything even remotely dark, who knew how he would react to the idea that Harry was having dreams, or visions, or something, about torturing someone. Harry knew he would write to Healer Axecure, but he didn’t know how much information to include. The only other adult that Harry would feel safe talking to was Cousin Narcissa, but Harry wouldn’t see her until summer and he wasn’t sure how many details he wanted to include in a letter.

Maybe he should just tell Draco when he got back from Christmas Break – his cousin would probably have some good ideas about what Harry should do – and until then, Harry would do some research and try and figure out what his dreams meant and whether or not they were real.

17-17-17

“Master Harry Potter, sir? Master Harry Potter be needing to wake up.”

Harry groaned and buried his face in his pillow. He’d only just gotten back to sleep, why would someone be trying to wake him up?

“Master Harry Potter, sir?” The voice squeaked again. “Headmaster Dumbledore is telling Rancleave to wake Master Harry Potter up.”

“What time is it?” Harry mumbled into the pillow.

“It is being one minute after nine, Master Harry Potter.” Rancleave answered.

“What?” Harry rolled over and forced his eyes open so he could look at the house elf standing beside his bed. All the students who had stayed for the holidays had been told that they were required to attend Christmas Breakfast in the Great Hall at nine. He hoped they weren’t all waiting for him. Merlin, he should have set an alarm. “Really?”

“Yes, Master Harry Potter.” Rancleave nodded.

“Bother!” Harry scrambled out of bed. “Tell Dumbledore that I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“Yes, Master Harry Potter, sir.” Rancleave replied before he disappeared with a small pop.

Harry unlocked his trunk and grabbed the first outfit he found, a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and a green sweater, before getting changed as quickly as he could. He ran into a bit of trouble with the sweater, first putting it on inside out and then getting his arm stuck in one of the sleeves, but when he was finally dressed he rushed into the bathroom to splash some water onto his face. His reflection in the mirror made him wince – he looked awful! His hair was sticking up all over the place, his eyelids were drooping and there was massive bags under his eyes.

Harry ran all the way to the Great Hall, desperately hoping that Dumbledore had decided to start without him. He slowed to a fast walk just as he entered the hall and then flushed in embarrassment when everyone in the room turned to stare at him. The nine students sitting around the table, all of whom were at least two years older than Harry, looked annoyed and the Professors didn’t look much happier. As though that wasn’t bad enough, some of the professors and the Slytherin students stood up and bowed respectfully.

“Merry meet.”

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded in acknowledgement and rushed to slide into the nearest seat, next to the three Hufflepuff siblings who had stayed for the holiday.

“Merry Christmas, Harry my boy.” Dumbledore beamed at him. “I’m glad you could join us.”

“Sorry, Headmaster.” Harry answered across the table. “I slept in.”

“Ah, yes,” Dumbledore’s eyes sparkled. “There’s always one, isn’t there, Minerva?”

Professor McGonagall’s lips tightened with annoyance.

“Well,” Dumbledore looked around the table with a smile, apparently completely unmoved by McGonagall’s silence. “We’re all here now. Dig in.”

Dishes of food appeared in the middle of table and the students and professors all began to serve themselves.

Harry looked at the dishes in front of him, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit sick at the thought of food. He just wanted to go back to sleep.

“You alright there, Potter?” Eleonore Payne, Captain of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team, asked him from her seat beside him.

 “Fine.” Harry sighed and reached for the bowl of fruit salad. “Just tired.”

Eleonore looked amused. “You didn’t stay up all night did you?”

“No,” Harry yawned. “But I didn’t go to bed until after three.”

The other students all chuckled.

“You’ll learn.” Andrew Payne, Eleonore’s twin brother, told him. “I did that when I was your age too.”

Eleonore snorted. “You did that last month. At least Potter was smart enough to wait for the holidays.”

“What were you doing anyway?” Luther Price, a fourth year Gryffindor, asked him.

“Reading.” Harry admitted.

The students all chuckled again.

“Typical Ravenclaw.” Luther commented. “Why did I even ask?”

Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance. Why did people always dismiss his love of reading as ‘typical of a Ravenclaw’? Not all Ravenclaws liked reading – Anthony was evidence of that.

“So,” Graeme, the youngest of the Payne siblings, asked after a few minutes. “What presents did you guys get?”

Harry looked up from his bowl of fruit in surprise. He’d completely forgotten about Christmas presents. He supposed it was understandable, what with him having only ever gotten Christmas presents once in his life and having slept in, but it was still an exciting thing to look forward to. He wondered what people had gotten him.

His friends would have all opened their presents now. He hoped that they liked what he had bought them – he’d spent hours poring of different Owl Order catalogues trying to find the right presents for each of them. His favourite present was the model of a muggle car that could be taken apart and put back together like an actual car that he’d bought for Draco. He’d bought it before the school year had started and had been looking forward to giving it to his cousin.

 “What about you, Harry?” Eleonore asked, jerking Harry out of his thoughts.

“Pardon?” Harry asked, fighting back a yawn.

“What did you get for Christmas?” Graeme asked him.

“I don’t know.” Harry answered. “I only woke up five minutes before I got here. I didn’t have time to look at them.”

“Really?” Graeme asked in disbelief. “Not even one?”

“No, I’ll look at them after breakfast.” Harry told him.

“Fair enough.” Andrew elbowed his brother who looked like he was going to protest again. “What are your plans today, Harry? We’ve barely seen you all week. Don’t you get lonely by yourself?”

Harry swallowed his mouthful before answering. “Not really. I’ve actually been enjoying the quiet.”

“What have you been doing?” Graeme asked.

“Mostly just reading.” Harry admitted in embarrassment. “I’ve got some really great new books.”

Luther snorted and Harry glared at him, suddenly feeling annoyed at his own embarrassment. There was nothing wrong with enjoying reading!

“What are you reading at the moment?” Eleonore asked kindly.

Harry blinked at her and then faked a yawn to give him time to come up with an answer. He could hardly admit to reading a book on Parselmagic.

“A book on Ancient Runes.” He lied, though it wasn’t completely untrue – he had been reading it up until two days before.

All three siblings looked surprised.

“But you’re only a second year.” Graeme said after a few seconds. “You can’t even take Ancient Runes until next year.”

“I know.” Harry answered. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not interesting.”

“What’s it called?” Andrew asked curiously.

“The Practical Application of Elder Futhark Runes.” Harry replied.

“Seriously?” Andrew’s eyebrows rose. “You know that you won’t start learning about Elder Futhark Runes until your sixth year, right? We only just started on them last month.”

“Really?” Now it was Harry’s turn to be surprised. “Why?”

“Because it’s bloody complicated!” Andrew answered passionately.

“Why?” Harry asked again. He hadn’t been finding the book _that_ hard. Sure it was a little complex, but not nearly as complex as some of the other books he had read.

Andrew looked at his sister as though for help. “Because there are twenty four of them!”

“But that’s not nearly as many as the Anglo-Saxon Runes.” Harry pointed out. “There are thirty three of those. Well, either thirty three or twenty nine depending on who you read.”

“You’ve read about Anglo-Saxon Runes?” Andrew asked weakly.

Harry looked around and suddenly realised that the whole table seemed to be listening in one their conversation. “Yes?”

“Amazing!” Professor Flitwick commented from his seat, five places down from Harry.

“It was just a book.” Harry tried to deflect the attention. “I read a lot of books. It’s not like I have actually used any runes.”

“Have you read anything about Younger Futhark Runes?” Andrew asked curiously.

Harry looked around the table again, reluctant to answer. “A little.”

“What have you read?” Andrew persisted.

“Leave him alone, Andy.” Eleonore broke in. “It’s Christmas. You can bug him about runes tomorrow.”

Andrew looked disappointed, but he nodded in agreement.

Glad for the reprieve, Harry quickly swallowed down the rest of his fruit and then poured himself a goblet of Pumpkin Juice. He wondered how long he would have to stay at the table. Surely Dumbledore would let them leave soon.

17-17-17

After Dumbledore finally dismissed them, Harry spent the rest of his morning unwrapping his Christmas presents and then composing thank you cards as Cousin Narcissa had taught him. As with his birthday, he had received a book from each of the Ravenclaws, except Anthony, and all the Slytherins, except Draco. Neville had given him some tools to help him look after his bonsai tree and the twins had bought him another lot of Zonko products.

Lord Malfoy and Cousin Narcissa’s present was the size of a shoebox, but when Harry unwrapped it he realised that it was actually a shrunken trunk. The card that accompanied it explained that the trunk would hold up to three thousands books and had a cataloguing system – Harry’s thank you card to them was particularly effusive. He couldn’t wait to transfer all his books, old and new, into the trunk!

Draco had given him a pair of golden omniocculars (so that Harry could look pretentious without having to borrow Draco’s) and a set of Quidditch gloves and braces made out of dragon skin. And Luna gave him a subscription to the Quibbler, along with a necklace made out of corks.

Harry opened Sirius’ present last because he wasn’t really in the mood to read his godfather’s letter that was sure to contain comments about the evilness of dark wizards, Slytherins and Malfoys. Still, when his godfather’s present was all that was left, he opened the letter first.

‘ _Merry Christmas, Harry!_

_I hope you are having a wonderful morning! I remember loving Christmas mornings at Hogwarts – it was way better than spending Christmas morning at home. Though after my fifth year I spent the Christmas holidays with your dad’s family which was brilliant! Hopefully next year you’ll be able to spend Christmas with me and Remus._

_I don’t think I’ve told you much about Remus, have I? He was one of your dad and my friends at school and he’s been visiting me a bit. Remus is great, I think you’ll get along well with him – he’s a bookworm too. Your dad and I used to tease him about being more of a Ravenclaw than a Gryffindor – not that there’s anything wrong with being a Ravenclaw of course._

_Anyway, I hope you like the present, it’s from both me and Remus (though don’t tell Remus, he doesn’t actually know that he helped me pick out half of it). I think you’ll be able to figure out which part of it I chose though._

_Merry Christmas!_

_Sirius’_

Harry read the letter over again, pleasantly surprised by its contents. There was absolutely nothing about Slytherins or dark wizards in it at all. Nothing about the Malfoys either. The part about Remus was interesting. Sirius didn’t talk about his friends very often, apart from Harry’s dad of course, but Remus must be the one who hadn’t betrayed his parents to Voldemort.

Harry set down the letter and picked up Sirius’s present. The fact that there were two parts explained the weird shape. He tore of the paper and then winced when he realised that Sirius had bought him another Nimbus 2001. What was he going to do with two of them? He supposed it was his own fault for not telling Sirius that the Malfoys had bought him one for his birthday, though how he could have told his Malfoy-hating godfather was a mystery. Still, it was a nice thought. Sirius knew how much he loved Quidditch and the Nimbus 2001 was very expensive.

He shifted his gaze away from the broomstick towards the second part of the present – pile of magically shrunken books. There were over thirty of them, which explained why they had been shrunken, and when Harry resized them he realised that they were a set of Encyclopaedias.

Harry looked them over with awe – they must have cost Sirius a fortune! Harry picked up the first one and opened it in the middle. There was a picture of a large and bizarre looking dragon that was apparently an Antipodean Opaleye – a dragon native to Australia and New Zealand. The picture was incredible and so were the details in the book. It even talked about the Antipodean Opaleye’s breeding cycle.

Suddenly, Harry couldn’t wait to meet Remus. If the man had picked out the Encyclopaedias, however unknowingly, then he was obviously a man with great taste. The other Ravenclaws were going to be so jealous (and excited) when Harry lent the set of books to the Ravenclaw Library.

 

 

 


	19. Chapter 18

Harry spent the rest of Christmas day storing most of his new books (including the ones he had chosen from the Come and Go Room) in his new trunk and spelling the other ones into the Ravenclaw Library so that the other Ravenclaw students could use them too.

Christmas dinner was actually kind of fun. The Great Hall had even more Christmas trees and decorations than it had had at breakfast and lunch, and the professors all seemed to be in a partying mood. Dumbledore led them all in some Christmas carols and, by the time dessert appeared, at least four teachers, including Professor Flitwick, were acting as though they had a little too much of the adults’ eggnog. The students were in high spirits as well and Harry watched in amusement as they poked fun at one another. The three Payne siblings made an effort to include him in their conversations too, though thankfully none of them brought up the conversation that Harry and Andrew had had that morning about Ancient Runes. Harry hoped that they had all just forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case and the next morning Andrew Payne sat next to Harry at breakfast.

“So, Harry,” Andrew started as he grabbed himself a few pieces of toast. “You were going to tell me about the books you’ve read on Younger Futhark Runes.”

Harry didn’t remember agreeing to that at all. “Well, I read the third year textbook.”

“Oh, anything else?” Andrew looked slightly disappointed.

Harry considered lying, but he’d never lied about his knowledge and he wasn’t going to start now. “And the fourth and fifth year textbooks, and Spellman's Syllabary.”

“Spellman’s Syllabary?” Andrew repeated in amazement. “That’s on the sixth years’ advanced reading list.”

Harry looked down at his breakfast bowl feeling awkward. “It was interesting.”

“Well, good for you.” Eleonore, Andrew’s twin sister, told him with a smile. “I wish I found my schoolwork that interesting.”

Harry smiled gratefully at her.

18-18-18

The rest of Harry’s Christmas break went by rapidly. He spent his days reading, and practising some of the more interesting spells that he read about, as well as looking after the polyjuice potion. He also spent a few hours each morning working on his Occlumency and, by the time the third of January arrived, bringing with it the rest of the students, he had almost finished sorting out his memories. It was exciting to think that in a few weeks he would be able to start working on the defence part of Occlumency.

The students’ arrival seemed very loud to Harry, most of which he put down to him having become accustomed to the Great Hall being quiet during meals. It was nice to see his friends again though, and he listened as they excitedly told him about their holidays. After a few minutes they asked him how his holiday had been and grinned with amusement when Harry admitted that he’d spent most of it reading.

“I practised some spells too!” He defended. “I managed to cast that shield spell that Auror Tonks talked about last term.”

“Really?” Terry’s eyes widened. “But she said we wouldn’t learn it until we were fifth years.”

Harry grinned proudly. “I know, but I thought it sounded like a good spell to know.”

“Yeah,” Michael nodded mock seriously. “I mean, what if someone attacks you in the halls.”

“It’s not that unlikely.” Harry defended. “Didn’t you hear about that fourth year, Leonard Burmyster, ending up in the hospital wing last month? He got cursed by one of his classmates.”

“Yeah, but Burmyster’s a prat and everyone hates him.” Michael pointed out. “Who would want to curse you?”

“You never know.” Harry said, trying not to look at Anthony. The other boy had been becoming increasingly hostile all year and at this point Harry wouldn’t be surprised if he did decide to try and curse him.

That night in the dorms, Harry’s friends updated him on the progress they had made with their chocolate business. Apparently they had taken the opportunity of the holiday to buy a box that would keep the chocolate in statis and had made their first order. According to Michael, who had apparently ended up the one in charge, they would have the chocolate in two days and be able to start selling it. The boys were all very excited about it and, as had become customary, Anthony even forgot to hate Harry for the span of the conversation.

Classes started the next day and the professors didn’t bother easing them into it. Charms was first and Flitwick spent the class giving a rapid, and complicated, lecture on the theory of the Tongue-Tying curse. By the end of the class, Harry’s hand was beginning to ache from all the notes and he couldn’t help but be glad that their next class was Herbology – Sprout almost never gave them reasons to take notes.

Flitwick asked Harry to stay behind after class and Harry gestured his friends to go on ahead without him, before making his way to the front of the classroom.

“Yes, Professor?”

“I couldn’t help but overhear the conversation you had with Mr. Payne last week, Mr. Potter.” Flitwick started.

Harry frowned in confusion. “Sorry, professor?”

“On Christmas morning.” Flitwick reminded him. “About the private study you have done for Ancient Runes?”

“Oh.” Harry looked down awkwardly.

“I have spoken to Professor Babbling,” Flitwick said. “And she is interested in meeting with you.”

“What? Why?”

Flitwick smiled reassuringly. “It is not often that we professors find a student who is as motivated for private study as you have been for Ancient Runes. I have asked Professor Babbling whether she would be willing to test you to see if you could join her third year class and she has agreed.”

“But I’m a second year.” Harry reminded him. “And we’re already part way through the year.”

“None the less, Professor Babbling will be expecting you in her classroom after your last class this afternoon.” Flitwick told him. “Do you know where her classroom is?”

“I still have my map from first year.” Harry told him, forcing down a disgruntled scowl. “I’ll find it on that. Or I could just ask one of the older students.”

“Excellent.” Flitwick beamed as he handed Harry a hall pass. “Here, give Professor Sprout my apologies.”

“Yes, sir.”

Harry gritted his teeth as he walked through the castle towards his next class. Why did Andrew Payne have to ask him about runes? Why did Flitwick have to arrange this meeting without even asking Harry? It wasn’t that Harry didn’t like learning, he did, but he was already busy and he didn’t want people to hate him for being smart – it had been bad enough when everyone had known that he was top of their year.

Though it hadn’t been all bad. It had been nice to know that all his hard work had paid off and there was something nice about knowing that he was smart. Maybe he should think of it like that? If he did end up testing in the third year class, which was very unlikely (he was only a second year for Merlin’s sake), then he could see it as a reward for all the hours he had spent reading up on the subject. Besides, the look on Granger’s face when she found out would be funny. She’d taken him beating her in the class rankings as a personal insult and had spent weeks glaring at him. Harry knew it was kind of childish of him, but ever since then he’d enjoyed her frustration whenever he got better marks than her.

Harry knocked on the door of the Herbology classroom and waited for Professor Sprout to call him in. He always felt bad when arrived late to class because having half the class (or more if they shared the class with Slytherins) standing up and bowing to him was very disruptive.

When Sprout eventually called him in, he waited for the bows and then nodding politely in acknowledgement before giving Sprout his hall pass and then sliding into the empty seat beside Draco.

Draco raised an eyebrow questioningly but waited until Sprout had finished giving them instructions about how to plant the cocoa beans before speaking.

“What did Flitwick want?”

“How did you know?” Harry asked his cousin in surprise.

“Boot told Sprout.” Draco answered as though it should have been obvious, which Harry supposed was true.

“He’s arranged for me to meet with Professor Babbling.” Harry told him quietly. “He found about how much I’ve read about Ancient Runes and wants her to test me to see if I can join her third year class.”

“Can second years do that?” Draco asked.

“Apparently.” Harry stuck his finger in the dirt to create a hole before dropping in one of the beans. “How was your holiday?”

“Smashing!” Draco told him excitedly. “Father and mother took me to see the Appleby Arrows play the Pride of Portree.”

“Brilliant.” Harry grinned. “What was it like? I’ve never been to a professional Quidditch match before.”

“They were amazing!” Draco told him. “The chasers were really fast and some of the plays they used looked impossible.”

“Learn anything?” Harry asked, carefully brushing the dirt into the holes that now contained seeds.

“When one the Pride’s Chaser’s passes went wide, their teammate threw themselves to the side to catch the quaffle and ended upside down.” Draco told him enthusiastically. “Then he passed the quaffle while only hanging on with his legs.”

Harry grinned. “That sounds amazing. Have you tried it yet?”

“Sort of.” Draco sighed. “I’ve practised throwing myself to the side and hanging on with just my legs, but I didn’t have any one to throw the quaffle.”

“I can practise with you sometime if you like.” Harry offered. “Throwing the quaffle wide is my speciality.”

Draco’s expression was grateful. “That would be smashing. I don’t want to try it with the Slytherin team until I can do it. You know how they are.”

“Not really.” Harry pointed out, he’d never actually seen the Slytherin Team practise.

“Right,” Draco acknowledged. “Well, they’re very ambitious…”

“Obviously.” Harry grinned.

“And not particularly forgiving of failure.” Draco continued, ignoring the interruption

Professor Sprout suddenly appeared beside their table. “More working, less talking, boys.”

“Sorry, professor.”

18-18-18

Herbology was their last class of the morning and, after Sprout dismissed them, Harry walked to lunch with the Slytherins.

“You missed a great party!” Theo told him with a grin.

“Of course he did.” Draco answered loftily. “Our Yule Party is the event of the year.”

“Did the professors arrange a party here?” Daphne asked curiously.

Harry smiled at her. “Not really. We sung song Christmas carols at dinner and some of the professors drank too much eggnog.”

“Christmas carols?” Daphne asked. “What are they?”

“They’re songs that muggles sing during the Christmas season.” Harry explained. “Don’t wizards have them?”

“Why would we sing songs during Yule?” Draco asked incredulously.

“No idea.” Harry admitted. “I guess it’s just something muggles do.”

Draco scowled. “So of course Dumbledore tries to make all of us do it! As though Hallows Eve wasn’t bad enough.”

“Oh look, we’re here.” Harry said in relief as they walked into the Great Hall. Draco’s rants about Dumbledore’s corruption of wizarding customs normally went on for ages. “I’ll see you after lunch.”

“Merry part.” Daphne and Theo told him politely, though they were both giving him a look for deserting them with Draco.

“Merry part.”

Harry took a few minutes to swallow down three sandwiches, before making his way to Hoth to meet Draco and Luna.

Luna was already there when he arrived and she skipped towards him and gave him a hug. Harry stood frozen for a moment, unsure about how to react. Nobody hugged him – ever. In fact he couldn’t remember a single hug in his life. He presumed his parents had hugged him when he had been a baby, but the Dursleys definitely hadn’t and the Malfoys, who were the only people he could think of that would care enough to hug him, weren’t exactly huggers.

“You’re supposed to hug me back.” Luna told him lightly, her arms still wrapped around him.

Harry cautiously moved his hands so that they were resting on her back. Was he doing it right? Suddenly he wished he paid more attention to how other people hugged.

“What are you doing?” Draco’s surprised voice came from behind him.

“Hugging.” Luna told him as she released Harry and skipped towards Draco.

Harry turned around just in time to see her hug Draco, who looked completely bewildered.

“Come on, silly.” Luna told him. “Hug me back.”

“I don’t really hug people, Luna.” Draco told her, his arms still by his sides.

“Well you should.” Luna told him, her tone matter of fact. “I’m not letting you go until you hug me back.”

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed exasperatedly, but he brought his arms up and hugged Luna back.

Harry watched carefully to see if he could learn something. Admittedly the Malfoys weren’t huggers, but he was sure that Cousin Narcissa would have hugged Draco when he was younger.

Luna stepped back after a few seconds and then looked from Harry to Draco. “Aren’t you going to hug?”

“No!” Harry and Draco answered in unison, both shaking their heads firmly.

Luna looked disappointed, but she let it go.

“How is the potion?” Draco asked as he walked towards the cauldron.

“It’s fine.” Harry answered. “It should be finished by Saturday.”

“Really?” Draco’s eyes gleamed excitedly.

Luna smiled gleefully.

18-18-18

Harry’s final class of the day was Transfiguration and after McGonagall released them, he excused himself from his friends and made his way towards the Ancient Runes Professor’s classroom. His Ravenclaw friends bought his excuse of wanting to spend more time with Draco, and their disapproving expressions were well worth the secret he was keeping from them. There was no way he wanted to tell them about his meeting with Professor Babbling unless he actually managed to get into the third year class. Anthony would probably spend the rest of the month making snide remarks about his failure.

Armed with the map of the castle that he had been given at the beginning of first year, Harry made his way through to the fifth floor where Professor Babbling’s classroom was located. It wasn’t hard to find and Harry found himself knocking on the classroom door a mere ten minutes after McGonagall had dismissed them.

The door swung open on its own.

“Enter.” A woman’s voice called from within the classroom.

Harry entered the room cautiously, pausing when he spotted Professor Babbling sitting behind a large desk on the opposite end of the room.

“Come and take a seat, Mr. Potter.” Professor Babbling instructed him with a small smile.

Harry studied the professor as he made his way to his seat, he’d only ever seen her from a distance before. She looked surprisingly young. She was probably only a few years older than Auror Tonks. Professor Babbling’s hair was blond, though more of a dirty blond than Draco’s and Luna’s hair, and it was cut just above her shoulders. She looked very serious, more like Professor McGonagall than Professor Flitwick, but she was smiling which McGonagall never did.

“Now,” Professor Babbling started the instant that Harry sat in the chair closest to her. “I’m sure Professor Flitwick told you why you are here?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry agreed nervously.

Babbling folded her hands on the desk in front of her. “Professor Flitwick told me what he remembered from your discussions with Mr. Payne over the holidays, but I would like to hear it from you.”

“What do you want to know, professor?” Harry asked.

“First, what books have you read on Ancient Runes?” Babbling asked him.

“Well, I’ve read the textbooks for third year up to fifth year.” Harry started. “And Spellman's Syllabary, The Practical Application of Elder Futhark Runes, Anglo-Saxon Runes: An Analysis, and Ancient Runes for the Novice.”

Babbling leaned back in her chair. “And do you feel as though you understood all the material?”

Harry scrunched up his nose. “Partly. I definitely understood the third year textbook, and most of the fourth year one, but some of the fifth year textbook didn’t seem to make any sense. Spellman’s Syllabary was really intense and I spent most of the book feeling as though I was missing something. The other three books were fine though.”

“I’m impressed.” Babbling told him. “I think I have some seventh year students who have read less on the subject than you have, though granted their comprehension of the few books they have read is likely a lot higher than yours. Why did you continue reading the books that you did not understand?”

“They were still interesting.” Harry explained. “I figured that I was still learning stuff and in a few years I can go back and read them again.”

“Very true.” Babbling nodded. “I hope you do, Mr. Potter.” She picked a piece of parchment up off her desk. “Did Professor Flitwick tell you that I would be assigning you a test?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Harry nodded. He still wasn’t sure whether he was excited or reluctant at the idea of being put into the third year runes class.

Professor Babbling handed him the test and told him that he had fifty minutes to complete it, before sitting back at her desk and starting to read a book. It was weird being the only student taking a test, normally he was one of many, but the lack of noise was nice. It was great not to have to try and block out the sound of his classmates’ sighs, coughs, and the scratching of their quills.

The test was both easy and hard. The first half of the questions required him to write paragraphs explaining things, that was easy enough, but the second half of the test required him to actually draw the runes – something Harry had never done before. It wasn’t that Harry didn’t know what the runes looked like, he had all the Younger Futhark Runes memorised, but getting their angles and proportions to look right was maddeningly difficult.

When Professor Babbling told him that his time was up, Harry was tempted to try and hide his test from her. Never before he handed in a test, or assignment for that matter, with so many parts crossed out. Still, Harry passed her the test and waited patiently for her to dismiss him.

When Babbling didn’t dismiss him, choosing instead to begin marking his test, Harry had to fight his urge to groan in frustration. He knew he’d failed! Why couldn’t she just let him leave? He considered pulling his Transfiguration homework out of his bag, but in the end decided to just wait patiently. After all, how long would it take Babbling to realise how badly he had failed?

It took Babbling fifteen minutes to finish looking through Harry’s test and Harry spent most of the time arguing with himself about whether or not he should start his homework. It was infuriating!

“This is rather impressive.” Professor Babbling told him suddenly.

Harry jumped slightly at the noise, before looking at the test in her hand incredulously. “Really?”

Babbling nodded. “This is the test that I gave my third years at the end of last year. You have passed it with an Acceptable.”

Harry grimaced, an acceptable? He’d never gotten anything lower than an Exceeds Expectations in his whole time at Hogwarts.

“Which, seeing as how you have not spent a year in my class, is very impressive.” Babbling continued. “Your theory is Outstanding, however, your ability to actually draw the runes is Poor.”

Harry didn’t know what was stronger, his pride at having gotten Outstanding for part of the third year test, or his shame at having gotten a Poor of all things.

“What does your class schedule look like?” Babbling asked him.

“Pardon?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Your class schedule, Mr. Potter.” Babbling repeated firmly.

Harry rooted around in his bag until he found the book that he recorded all his homework and assignments in and opened it to the first page which contained his class schedule. Then he passed he book to the professor.

“Hmm.” Babbling looked it over. “This will work well.”

Harry watched her in confusion, not sure what was happening. Why did she care about his class schedule? He obviously hadn’t gotten into the third year class – he’d gotten a Poor on part of the test.

Babbling picked up her quill and wrote in Harry’s book, before passing it back to him. Harry looked at the page and noticed that she had written ‘Ancient Runes’ in the only free blocks he had in the week: Tuesdays before lunch, and his last class on Thursday and Friday afternoons.

“Professor?” Harry asked in disbelief. Was she actually letting him into her class? Any reluctance that he had felt disappeared, leaving only excitement.

“You will attend my third year Runes Class.” Babbling told him firmly. “I suggest that you get your hands on A.P. Powell’s book ‘Inscribing Runes’ and read it as soon as possible. It is likely in the Ravenclaw library.”

“You were a Ravenclaw, professor?” Harry asked, before mentally kicking himself. What must she think of him? She’d just told him that he would be attending a third year class and all he could do is ask about her house affiliation.

“Yes.” Babbling told him. “You are dismissed. I will see you tomorrow morning.”

“Thank you, ma’am.” Harry told her gratefully. “I’ll work hard.”

“Yes,” Babbling agreed. “You will.”

18-18-18

“Guess what?” Harry asked as he burst into his dorm.

“What?” Terry asked from the floor where he, Michael, Rodney and Anthony were playing a game of Exploding Snap.

“They’re putting me in the third year Ancient Runes class!” Harry answered, bouncing in place.

“Are you serious?” Terry asked Harry, turning his attention away from the game.

“Yes.” Harry grinned. “I can hardly believe it either.”

“The third year Runes class?” Michael asked incredulously. “That’s incredible.”

“I know.” Harry grinned, bouncing on his toes.

“How did that happen?” Terry asked curiously.

“Flitwick overheard a conversation I had with one of the older Hufflepuffs who stayed over Christmas about the books I’ve read on Ancient Runes.” Harry explained. “He talked to Babbling and arranged for me to take a test with her and I got in!”

Rodney grinned. “That’s amazing! When do you start?”

“Tomorrow, during our free class.” Harry answered. “I’m not going to have any free classes anymore.”

Michael grimaced. “That sounds awful!”

“Except, not.” Terry told his friend. “He’s going to be in the third year Runes class. That hardly ever happens!”

“Rare or not, I’m just glad that it’s not me.” Rodney said. “I have enough work to do as it is.”

Michael nodded in agreement. “I’m happy for you though, Harry. It couldn’t have happened to a better bloke – at least you like working hard.”

Anthony snorted loudly and Harry glared at him.

“Something to say, Anthony?” He challenged.

“I guess they’ll give you anything.” Anthony sneered. “Just because you’re the boy-who-lived and a bloody toff!”

Harry glared at the other boy. “Give me? Didn’t you hear me? I took a test. I earned it!”

“Yeah right.” Anthony snorted again. “Just like they don’t give you everything else!”

Harry sneered at him. “What exactly do you think they give me?”

Anthony’s answering sneer was ugly. “You can’t seriously think that we believe that you deserve your grades.”

“Woah!” Terry said quickly, raising his hands defensively. “I don’t know who you’re including in your ‘we’, but don’t pull me into this.”

“Me either.” Michael said quietly, while Rodney shook his head quickly.

“I didn’t see you disagreeing with me before.” Anthony snarled at them. “So it’s okay to talk trash about bloody Potter behind his back, but not to his face? You’re all bloody cowards!”

Harry took a deep breath and tried to push down the hurt and betrayal he was feeling. “The way I see it, we’ve got two separate issues here. Firstly, Anthony here thinks I cheat, and second, the rest of you possibly agree with him but don’t want to admit it.”

“Harry, I would never…” Terry started, only to trail off when Harry held up a hand to stop him.

“We should deal with first things first.” Harry snapped. “To be honest, Anthony, I don’t care whether or not you think I deserve my marks, but I do care that you’re accusing all our professors of corruption.”

Anthony looked startled. “What? I’m not, I didn’t…”

“Yes, you are!” Harry told him. “If you think that the professors are just giving me good marks because I’m famous or because I bribe them or whatever, then you think that they are the sort of people who would let someone cheat. Which means that you think that they are corrupt. Which lowers the quality of our education.

“After all, if the professors aren’t grading on the knowledge and abilities of students, but instead on how rich and famous they are, then how can we, or anyone else, believe that we are receiving a high quality education? And what master, or university, would take on an apprentice whose education had been tampered with?

“Not that it will really affect me. After all, I’m a ‘bloody toff’! I’m the Heir to two Most Ancient and Noble Houses, I won’t ever have to work a day of my life unless I want. And if I want to, then who wouldn’t want to have the boy-who-lived working for them, shoddy education or not? The rest of you, however, well if Hogwarts professors are corrupt then your future is screwed! And that’s not even considering the possibility of the Hogwarts’ Board of Governors suing you and your family for slander.”

Harry stared at Anthony coldly.

“Well,” Terry said, the lightness in his tone obviously forced. “You have clearly been spending far too much time with your cousin.”

Harry glared at him. “Really? You want to start on Draco now?”

Terry winced. “Right, sorry. Just trying to lighten the mood.”

“Nothing to say, Goldstein?” Harry asked, turning his attention back to the boy.

Anthony shook his head silently.

Harry nodded in satisfaction. “I don’t know what your problem is. I mean sure, if I swanned around all high and mighty, never doing any work and acting as though I thought good grades were my right, then sure, you’d have a reason to hate me. But I don’t. I work bloody hard. I get up at five thirty every morning to meditate, because meditation increases your ability to use magic, then I run around the lake because that increases my magical stamina. Last year I spent every lunchtime taking lessons from Draco about how I should act, I listen carefully in all my classes, and I spend at least four hours a day studying. I work bloody hard for my grades.”

“We know.” Terry said seriously, shooting Anthony a dirty look. “I’ll admit to having had a conversation with the others about your grades, but I thought we were joking. I know it was a prattish thing to do, but I didn’t mean anything by it.”

“Me either!” Michael and Rodney agreed.

Harry studied them carefully. “Alright then.

Harry actually felt a bit sorry for Anthony. Obviously the other boy hadn’t realised that the others were joking and was no doubt feeling betrayed. Harry studied the other boy carefully.

“Do you honestly think that I don’t earn my marks?”

Anthony scowled. “I don’t know.”

Harry sighed. “What can I do to prove to you that I do? You could use my study schedule and see if it improves your grades?”

“And get up at five thirty in the morning?” Anthony sounded horrified. “No bloody way.”

Harry sneered, suddenly furious again. “How can you go around telling people that I don’t deserve my grades when you’re not willing to put in the same amount of work that I do? And before you start on the Ancient Runes thing, I’ve spent hours reading books on Runes. While you get to go home for Christmas break, I have to stay here and I spend all day every day reading. That’s why I got put into the third year class, because I worked for it!”

Anthony grimaced and wouldn’t meet his eyes.

“I’m leaving.” Harry announced. “I’ll see you all at dinner.” He stormed out of the room angrily. How dare Anthony? To accuse him of cheating? Harry worked damn hard and Anthony knew that!

Harry stalked into the Common Room and threw himself into a chair at an empty desk. He was glad that he hadn’t taken the time to put down his school bag, there was still another forty five minutes until dinner and he needed to spent that time doing his homework. Which was just another bit of proof that he worked for his grades! He bet his friends hadn’t even considered starting their homework yet. No, they would rather play Exploding Snap than do their homework and they accused him of not deserving his grades!

He took out his Transfiguration homework, along with a quill and ink, and started answering the questions on the sheet the McGonagall had given him. He was only on his third word when the nib on his quill snapped off.

Harry glared at it and threw it down on the table. He needed to calm down. There was no point in getting this worked up over Anthony. It wasn’t as though it was a big surprise or anything. He’d known that the other boy didn’t like him and was jealous of his grades.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to find the calm place he always went to when he meditated. It was getting easier and easier to find and within ten seconds, Harry felt a lot calmer. He opened his eyes again found another quill in his bag, before starting on his homework again.

Who cared about what Anthony thought anyway?

 


	20. Chapter 19

Harry didn’t sit with his dorm mates at dinner that night. He had planned to, but then he saw Anthony’s face and felt a sudden urge to curse him. Instead, Harry sat next to Luna.

Luna was always fun to hang out with and he enjoyed watching the other first year girls’, and even some of the older girls’, befuddled expressions at the idea of them being friends. He and Draco still hadn’t convinced Luna to tell them who the ‘nargles’ who had been stealing her things were, but Harry had some pretty good guesses.

After dinner, Harry took his homework to Hoth and sat down at one of the few remaining desks to get started on it. At least here he could avoid his dorm mates, maybe he’d feel less inclined to curse Anthony in the morning.

He had barely managed to get started on his Herbology homework when Draco and Luna both arrived.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked curiously.

Draco looked at Luna. “Luna told me that we needed to come and see you. What are you doing here?”

“Anthony’s being a prat.” Harry scowled. “I got into the third year Runes Class…”

“Really?” Draco interrupted. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks.” Harry smiled weakly. “But when I told my dorm mates, Anthony started on about how I don’t earn my grades. Apparently the professors just give them to be because I’m the boy-who-lived.”

“That’s stupid.” Draco told him and Luna nodded in agreement.

“I know.” Harry sighed.

“Ignore him, Harry.” Luna advised. “He’s full of green wrackspurts.”

“Thanks, Luna.” Harry smiled weakly.

“I’m going now.” Luna announced suddenly. “Harry, you should tell Draco about that thing.”

Draco looked between them. “What thing?”

“Harry will tell you.” Luna told him sweetly, before skipping out.

Harry stared after her. “How did she…?”

“Luna just knows things.” Draco told him. “You know that.”

“I don’t think it will ever stop surprising me though.” Harry stood up and went to sit on the couch.

Draco joined him and sat quietly, watching Harry intently.

“I had a dream on Christmas morning.” Harry started after a few seconds.

“This about a dream?” Draco asked incredulously. “With the way you and Luna were acting, I thought it was something serious.”

“It is serious!” Harry protested. “Just listen.”

“I’m not interpreting your dream for you, Harry.” Draco told him with a grin. “Maybe you should ask Professor Trelawney.”

“Draco!” Harry pleaded. “Please.”

Draco’s grin faded. “What’s the matter?”

“Firstly, this is a secret.” Harry told him. “You can’t tell anyone.”

“Alright.”

“Last year, when I went to see the goblin healer…”

“That’s so weird.” Draco interrupted. “Who goes and sees a goblin healer?”

Harry glared at him. “Healer Axecure is great. Now listen!”

“Sorry.”

“When I went to see Healer Axecure,” Harry started again. “She said that there was something weird with my scar.”

Draco’s eyes went to Harry’s forehead and he leaned forward with interest.

“She said I should let her know if anything weird happened, like dreams and headaches and stuff.” Harry went on. “At the welcome feast it felt as though it was burning, and then around this time last year I started having dreams when it would burn too. Healer Axecure did some tests, but she still hasn’t figured out what’s going on with it. She thinks there’s something stuck inside my scar.”

Draco’s eyes were wide. “Like what?”

“I don’t know.” Harry admitted. “She tested it again last summer, with another goblin healer’s help, but they didn’t tell me if they found anything.”

“So there might be something hiding in your head?” Draco asked in amazed horror.

“Maybe.” Harry grimaced. “Anyway, that’s not the whole story.”

Draco inched closer. “Go on then.”

“Well, over the summer I had this really weird dream.” Harry told him. “I can’t remember much of it, except that it was really angry and my scar hurt when I woke up. And then I had another dream the week after we started back, only in that one I was torturing this man named Wormtail and my scar hurt again when I woke up.”

“You were torturing someone?” Draco breathed.

“Yeah.” Harry grimaced again. “And then I had another dream on Christmas morning. It was the same, well, not exactly the same, but I was torturing Wormtail again and there was a massive snake, and my scar burned again.”

“Wow!” Draco exclaimed.

“And when I woke up I was thinking about the dream, and I remembered that I’ve heard of someone called Wormtail.” Harry told his cousin. “Remember, from the Marauders’ Grimoire? Padfoot, Prongs, Moony…”

“And Wormtail.” Draco finished for him.

“Right.” Harry nodded. “What if that Wormtail is the same one as the one in my dream?”

“You think your dream is real then?” Draco asked. “Like a vision?”

“Maybe.” Harry shrugged. “How do I tell?”

“I don’t know.” Draco admitted. “You should tell someone, like mother.”

Harry sighed. “I thought about that, but I don’t think I want to put it all in a letter. What if someone else reads it?”

“Maybe you could tell Uncle Severus.” Draco suggested. “Or we could ask him to let you floo mother.”

“Do you think he would let me?” Harry asked hopefully.

“I’ll write to mother and ask for her to organise it.” Draco decided. “Uncle Severus always listens to her.”

Harry sighed in relief. “Thanks, Draco. I knew you would be able to help.”

Draco puffed his chest out proudly. “Of course.”

19-19-19

They had DADA class first the next day and Harry found himself missing Auror Tonks. They were still learning a lot, but Auror Franklin wasn’t as good of a teacher as she had been – though admittedly, he was still a lot better than either Quirrell or Lockhart.

Anthony hadn’t apologised for being a humungous prat, but then Harry hadn’t really expected him to. Harry had decided to deal with the situation by ignoring him. He wasn’t a jerk about it, it wasn’t as though he was pretending the other boy didn’t exist, but he didn’t see why he should have to pretend to be friends with someone who was that much of a prat. Harry knew it was kind of awkward for his other dorm mates, who didn’t seem to know what to do, but so far they seemed to just be trying to pretend that nothing had happened.

After DADA, Harry separated from his friends and made his way to the sixth floor for his first Ancient Runes class. He was very nervous, particularly since he hadn’t had a chance to read the book that Professor Babbling had recommended to him yet. Would the professor take that as evidence that he wasn’t going to work hard enough and kick him out of the class?

The classroom door was shut when Harry arrived and there were twenty two third years from all four houses lined up outside. Harry’s stomach fluttered nervously.

The third years didn’t notice him at first, but then one of the Gryffindors, a girl that Harry recognised from the Gryffindor Quidditch team, spotted him and elbowed her friend which got everyone’s attention.

“Merry meet, Potter.” Marcus Belby, a Ravenclaw who Harry recognised, bowed to him.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded, inwardly wincing when it was jerky. Cousin Narcissa and Draco would be horrified.

“Merry meet.” The Slytherins all bowed, along with a couple of the Hufflepuffs and one more Ravenclaw whose name Harry didn’t know.

“Merry meet.” Harry nodded again, thankfully much more smoothly.

“Are you lost, kid?” One of the larger Gryffindor boys asked him gruffly.

Harry shook his head quickly. “No, Professor Babbling told me to be here.”

“Why?” Katie Bell, who Harry recognised from the Gryffindor versus Slytherin Quidditch game, asked.

“He’s in our class now.” Marietta Edgecombe, another Ravenclaw, answered with a sour look on her face.

“What?” The Gryffindor boy from earlier asked. “But he’s a second year!”

“A second year who has probably read further ahead than all of you combined.” Professor Babbling told him sternly from the doorway. “Come in, take a seat.”

Harry waited until all the third years had entered the classroom, trying to ignore the hostile looks that some of them were giving him, before cautiously entering the classroom. There were only three spare seats in the classroom and Harry chose the one nearest the door.

“Good morning.” Professor Babbling told them all, standing near her desk. “Please place the assignment I trust you all completed over the holidays on your desk, and open your textbooks to page one hundred fifty eight. This week we will be discussing the ‘kaun’ rune.”

Harry took out his textbook, along with some parchment, a quill, and some ink, and quickly found the correct page. This he could do.

19-19-19

The rest of the week rushed by for Harry. Between his regular classes and his Ancient Runes class he spent most of his evenings doing homework and, any time he had left over, reading ‘Inscribing Runes’, the book that Babbling had recommended, and practising drawing the kaun rune over and over again. It was really hard and by the end of the week, Harry was still struggling to get the angles and proportions of it right consistently. It reminded him of their stupid astronomy project, making a mobile of their solar system, but at least this had a practical application.

He and Anthony had reached some kind of unspoken truce where they mostly just ignored each other. It was awkward for their dormmates, but Harry didn’t really care. It wasn’t as though it was his fault. All he’d done was study hard and get good marks, and he wasn’t going to apologise for it.

As had become their habit, Harry met with Neville and Takashi on Thursday to practise wandless magic together and he and Neville were both delighted to be able to consistently float the quill within a minute of meditating. Takashi still hadn’t managed to make his quill move, though he told them that he thought he was making progress.

Finally Saturday morning arrived and, after a particularly intense Quidditch practise, Harry met Draco and Luna at Hoth to add the final ingredient to the Polyjuice Potion.

“Luna, do you want to do the honours?” Harry offered.

Luna bit her lip nervously. “I don’t want to muck it up.”

“You won’t.” Harry promised, handing her the bicorn horn. “You just drop the horn into the potion and Draco and I will take it off the heat.”

Luna’s took the horn, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Alright.”

“On three.” Harry instructed, grasping one of the cauldron handles while Draco grabbed the other one. “One, two, three.”

Luna dropped the horn into the potion with an excited squeak and Harry and Draco immediately lifted the cauldron off the stand and onto the floor. Black smoke suddenly billowed from the cauldron and when it eventually cleared the potion had thickened and turned a dark brown.

“Oh no!” Luna moaned. “I ruined it!”

“No you didn’t.” Harry reassured her. “That’s what it’s supposed to look like.”

“I can’t believe we’re going to drink that!” Draco grimaced. “It looks like mud.”

“Mud doesn’t taste so bad, you know.” Luna told them.

Harry and Draco exchanged a glance. “We’ll take your word for that, Luna.”

Harry opened their potion cabinet and passed Draco and Luna each a pourer and an empty potion vial, before taking one for himself.

Draco grimaced, but dipped his pourer into the potion. “How long does this store for?”

“Ten years.” Harry told him with a grin. “Apparently a potion master spent most of the seventies figuring out how to make it store for up to a year. Then one day he accidently put too much boomslang skin in and the rest is history.”

“Boring history.” Draco muttered as he carefully poured the potion into his empty vial. Once the vial was full, he put a stopper in it and swapped it out for another empty one.

“No, it’s not.” Harry denied as he poured the potion into his own vial. “Professor Snape doesn’t think it’s boring. He was the one to tell us the story, don’t you remember?”

“Harry, I’m sorry to break it to you, but not everyone remembers every single lecture word for word.” Draco told him. “Not even me.”

“But it was interesting!” Harry protested. “It was part of his lecture on the preservative properties of boomslang skin.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “So are we pranking the Weasley twins tonight?”

“Definitely.” Harry grinned. “Have you memorised the song?”

“Yes.” Draco moaned. “I can’t believe we’re going to do this. It’s even based off a muggle song!”

“Nobody will know it’s you.” Harry reminded him.

“I’ll know!” Draco protested. “You’ll know, Luna will know.”

“Yes, but I’m going to be singing it right along with you.” Harry reasoned. “And Luna won’t be there. She’s going to be distracting the twins.”

Draco moaned again as he put a stopper in yet another potion vial. “I cannot believe that you talked me into this!”

19-19-19

The problem with their prank, Harry decided as he and Draco waited in Hoth, was that there so many different variables. The prank would only really work if Luna succeeded in keeping the Weasley twins away from the Great Hall until they had finished. They also had to hope that the professors wouldn’t stop the prank before they finished it.

Harry rubbed his hands together nervously and looked over at Draco who didn’t look any calmer. “Are you sure we want to do this?”

Draco sneered. “Don’t tell me you’re backing out of this now, Harry.”

“No.” Harry answered weakly.

“Besides, it was Luna’s plan.” Draco pointed out. “That means that it should definitely work.”

“Right.” Harry nodded and took a deep breath – he could do this.

Harry looked at the two vials of potion that were sitting on a desk along with the jar that contained two hairs – one each from Fred and George. He had no idea why all wizards didn’t befriend house-elves. They were brilliant! Not only had Stompy found the hairs for them, but he had also procured them each a set of Gryffindor robes approximately the Weasley twins’ size.

He and Draco were already wearing the robes and, due to the fact that Fred and George were almost six feet tall, they looked ridiculous.

Harry picked up one of the potion vials and pulled out the stopper. Then he selected one of the hairs and carefully dropped it in. Draco did the same thing with his own vial of Polyjuice potion.

The potions immediately became slightly redder, but they stayed just as thick and gross looking.

Harry looked over and Draco, ignoring the way his stomach was clenching uncomfortably. “You ready?”

“No.” Draco grimaced, but he brought the vial up to his mouth anyway and swallowed down the potion.

Harry watched him gag and then quickly drank down his own potion. It was just as gross as he remembered it being and Harry couldn’t help gagging as he swallowed it down.

“It’s awful!” Draco choked out, even as his body began to shift.

Harry watched for a few seconds as Draco’s face began to shift, before he was distracted by his own transformation. It was weird, feeling his whole body shift and change. He closed his eyes for a few seconds and the ground was suddenly a whole lot farther away.

“Wow!” One of the twin’s voice sounded from in front of him and Harry looked up in fright, sighing in relief when he realised that it was just Draco – Draco who now looked exactly like one of the twins.

It was so weird!

“This is smashing.” Draco said as he brought his hands up to his face.

“You can’t say that when we’re out there.” Harry cautioned. “There is no way the twins would ever say smashing.”

Draco rolled his eyes. “Alright. You ready?”

“Yes.”

“I can’t believe we’re doing this!” Draco muttered as they exited the room and began walking towards the Great Hall.

Harry grinned. “Come on, it’ll be fun!”

The Great Hall was almost full by the time they arrived, but thankfully the food hadn’t appeared yet. Harry and Draco paused at the hallway and looked around to make sure that the actual Weasley twins weren’t there, before walking confidently towards the Gryffindor table.

“There you guys are!” Lee Jordan exclaimed when he saw them. “Where have you been?”

“Preparing.” Harry told him with a smirk.

Lee grinned. “Really? What are you guys going to do?”

Harry just widened his smirk and hoped that Draco was smirking too. Then he used the nearest empty seat to climb up onto the Gryffindor Table.

“Oh, this should be good.” Lee grinned.

Harry waited until Draco was standing next to him, before turning face the Head Table and casting the sonorous charm on himself and Draco. By the time he had finished casting the charm, the entire hall was silent and he could feel everyone watching him. Harry wondered whether Draco was feeling as nervous as he was.

“Misters Weasley!” Professor McGonagall called across the hall. “What exactly do you two think you’re doing?”

“We’re glad you asked, Professor.” Harry told her with a cheeky grin. “We wrote you a song!”

McGonagall’s face tightened slightly and the hall burst into whispers. “I beg your pardon.”

Harry looked over at Draco, who was actually looking quite sick, and nudged him, before mouthing, “Ready?”

Draco gave a small nod, and then Harry turned back to McGonagall.

“We’ve got sunshine on a cloudy day.” Harry sung and he could hear his voice trembling slightly. More importantly, he couldn’t hear Draco at all. Harry elbowed him.

“When it’s cold outside.” Harry continued, relief rushing through him when he heard Draco join in. “We’ve got the month of May.”

“Misters Weasley!” McGonagall called forbiddingly.

Harry ignored her. “I guess you'd say, what can make us feel this way?”

“Misters Weasley!” McGonagall was stalking towards them now.

“McGonagall!” Harry sung, his arm reaching out towards her. “We love you, McGonagall!”

McGonagall’s face went slack for a moment in shock and Harry could see red spots appearing on her cheeks.

Harry shared a grin with Draco, most of his nerves gone. “We’ve got so much honey the bees envy me. We’ve got a sweeter song than the birds in the trees.”

“Misters Weasley!” McGonagall reached the Gryffindor table, her expression outraged.

“Well, I guess you'd say, what can make me feel this way?” Harry grinned down at her. Admittedly the prank was targeted at the Weasley twins rather than McGonagall, but the look on her face would have made it all worth it regardless.

“McGonagall!” Harry leapt down from the table and grabbed her hand. “We love you, McGonagall!”

“Mr. Weasley!” McGonagall snapped.

Harry grinned at her and began sprinting towards the door, Draco right on his heels.

“We did it!” Draco exclaimed as they got to the Entrance Hall.

“What the…” The twins voices exclaimed loudly.

Harry looked ahead and saw the Weasley twins staring at them from the other side of the Entrance Hall.

“With love from the Marauders’ Apprentices.” Harry called just before he and Draco quickly ducked into the nearest corridor and began sprinting away.

Merlin, he loved Luna. Her timing couldn’t have been any more perfect!

Harry and Draco ran back to Hoth and threw themselves down on the couch, both grinning madly.

“That was smashing!” Draco exclaimed.

“I know.” Harry bounced in his seat. “Did you see McGonagall’s face?”

“And the Weasleys’ faces too!” Draco added.

“Best prank ever!” Harry declared.

 


	21. Chapter 20

Dinner was almost over by the time the Polyjuice wore off, so Harry and Draco made their way down to the kitchens to get some food. The elves were delighted to see Harry as usual and greeted Draco enthusiastically. Draco didn’t seem to know how to respond and Harry spent most of their time in the kitchens quietly laughing at his expression. After they had eaten, they split up and made their way to their Common Rooms.

Harry’s stomach clenched nervously as he climbed the Ravenclaw stairs and he hoped his friends would buy his excuse. It was one of the weak spots of their prank – their friends were sure to realise that they weren’t present during the prank and ask questions. Draco had it easy – after all, who would believe that he had just dressed up like a Weasley and sung a love song to McGonagall? But Harry was a bit worried that his friends would be harder to convince.

He answered the doorknocker’s riddle and then stepped nervously into the Common Room, breathing a sigh of relief when nobody paid him any attention. He looked around for Terry, Michael and Rodney, but couldn’t see them anywhere, so he made his way towards the dorms.

“Harry!” Terry exclaimed when Harry pushed the door open. “Where were you? You missed the most amazing prank!”

“What?” Harry adopted a confused expression. “What do you mean?”

“The Weasleys sung a love song to McGonagall!” Michael answered.

“They said it wasn’t them.” Rodney pointed out. “And the professors seemed to believe them.”

“Yeah, right.” Michael returned. “Who else would do that?”

“The Marauders’ Apprentices.” Rodney told him. “That’s who the Weasleys said did it.”

“Either way, it was awesome!” Terry grinned.

“Where were you?” Anthony asked with a suspicious scowl.

Harry scowled back. “With Draco and Luna.”

“Maybe it was him.” Anthony told the others. “Maybe he’s one of the Marauders’ Apprentices. We should tell Dumbledore.”

Harry laughed even as his stomach clenched. “That’s ridiculous. How could it be me? You said that they looked like the Weasley twins.”

“Besides, there’s only one of Harry.” Terry pointed out. “Who do you think is his partner? Malfoy?”

The boys all snorted dismissively.

“As if.” Anthony sneered. “He’d probably break a nail.”

Harry scowled. “Lay off Draco!”

“Make me!” Anthony snarled defensively.

Harry flicked his wrist, summoning his wand from his wrist holster.

“Hey!” Terry stood up quickly. “No duelling.”

“Yeah, Potter!” Anthony smirked. “No duelling!”

Terry rounded on him. “Shut up, Anthony.”

Harry returned his wand to his holster. “I’ll be in the Common Room.”

He stalked out of the room. He hated this! Why did Anthony have to such a prat? And why did it mean that he was the one who saw his friends less?  

20-20-20

The best thing about Sundays, Harry decided when he woke up the next morning, was that he got to spend the whole day with Draco and Luna and, more importantly, away from Anthony. Harry wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the whole Anthony situation, but he was glad for the opportunity to ignore it for a whole day.

As usual, Harry started the day by working on his Occlumency and then left the dorms to meet Takashi and Neville for their morning run. The weather was absolutely freezing and twenty minutes into their run it started snowing heavily. They persevered for a few minutes, but gave up when Neville accidently ran into one of the Quidditch poles because he hadn’t seen it through the falling snow. Harry didn’t think he had ever enjoyed a hot shower so much in his life.

Terry, Michael and Rodney were sitting in their usual spot at the Ravenclaw table when Harry arrived at breakfast and, after checking that Anthony wasn’t around, Harry sat in the empty space beside Rodney.

“You’re up early.” He commented. “Normally I don’t see you until lunch on a Sunday.”

“That’s because Sunday mornings are for sleeping!” Michael groused and Rodney nodded in sleepy agreement.

“We wanted to talk to you.” Terry told him. “Without Anthony being around and since he’s always asleep on a Sunday morning…”

“Like any sane person.” Michael muttered.

“…we thought now would be a good time.” Terry finished.

Harry’s stomach clenched anxiously as he spread jam over his buttered toast. “What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Anthony.” Terry answered. “And the feud you two have going on.”

Harry stiffened defensively. “It’s not my fault that Anthony is being an arse.”

“We know.” Michael looked apologetic. “

“We’re definitely not saying that it’s your fault.” Rodney’s expression was sincere. “You’ve actually been really good about the whole thing.”

“Then what are you saying?” Harry bit into his toast.

“That we hate the fact that the two of you are fighting.” Terry said.

Harry frowned. “We’re not fighting. That makes it sound like it’s partly my fault and it’s not! He’s being an arse and I’m trying to ignore him.”

“Alright, fine.” Terry sighed. “You’re not fighting, but you’re not friends either.”

“His choice, not mine.” Harry muttered.

“Oh, would you shut up.” Terry growled. “We’ve said that we know it’s not your fault. There’s no need to go on about it.”

Harry sent him an apologetic look. “Sorry, it’s just that I feel as though you’re about to say ‘but’.”

Michael winced. “You’re not wrong.”

“But,” Terry said strongly. “Anthony is our friend too.”

“I know.” Harry told him. “I haven’t tried to stop you guys to choose between him and me. That goes right along with me being the good guy and Anthony being the prat.”

Terry shot him a dirty look. “See that? Not helpful.”

“The thing is, Harry,” Rodney spoke up. “You might not have asked us to choose, but Anthony kind of has.”

“He hasn’t come right out and said it or anything,” Michael added quickly. “But, to use your words, he’s an arse every time you’re around.”

Harry’s stomach clenched uncomfortable. “So what are you saying?”

“Just hear us out.” Terry said desperately. “Listen to our reasoning before you get mad, okay?”

Harry put down his toast and nodded slowly. “Fine.”

“Okay, fact one,” Michael started. “You have other friends aside from us and Anthony doesn’t.”

“Fact two, you’re not being a prat to Anthony despite what a jerk he’s being, so you’ll probably forgive us if we do something prattish too.” Terry added.

Rodney spoke up next. “Fact three, you’re not actually involved in our chocolate business, aside from being our financial backer.”

Harry glared at them all, feeling betrayed. He could see where they were going with this.

“So, we were thinking,” Terry started. “That maybe we could sort of back off on our friendship for a while, just until Anthony cools down.”

“We’d still be friends.” Michael rushed to say. “Just, maybe, you’d spend more time with your other friends than with us.”

“And then when Anthony stops being an arse, we can all hang out together again.” Rodney added.

Harry clenched his jaw. “So you’re picking Anthony over me? Even though neither of us has asked you to choose.”

Michael grimaced. “We just don’t want to have to deal with all the awkwardness anymore. Anthony’s awful when you’re around.”

“Which isn’t my fault!” Harry snapped. “And even though it’s Anthony’s fault, you’re still punishing me for it.” It reminded him a little too much of the Dursleys punishing him for Dudley’s crimes.

“It’s just for a little while.” Terry told him. “Just until Anthony calms down.”

“What if he never calms down?” Harry challenged. “Anthony hates me because of who my parents were and because I get good grades. I can’t change the first one and I refuse to change the second one. What if he never gets over it?”

The three boys exchanged looks, before shrugging.

“We don’t know.” Terry admitted.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, when the calmness that he experienced during meditation settled around him, he opened his eyes again.

“Alright. Fine. What about in classes?”

“We still want to partner with you in potions.” Rodney said quickly.

Harry fought down a sneer. “So you don’t want to be my friend, but you still want me to tutor you in potions.”

They all looked at him guiltily. “It’s not that we don’t want to be friends.” Terry defended. “We just want to keep our distance for a while. I’ll still sit with you in classes and stuff, but it’s not as though you don’t have other people to spend time with.”

Harry couldn’t handle it anymore. The calm feeling was already gone and he knew if he stayed any longer he would either start crying or curse one of them. He stood up forcefully and grabbed his half eaten piece of toast.

“Fine.”

20-20-20

“This is why you shouldn’t associate with blood traitors.” Draco commented after Harry had finished telling him and Luna what had happened. “They have no sense of fidelity.”

“Terry and Michael aren’t blood traitors.” Harry protested weakly. “They’re just as traditional as you and I are.”

“Obviously not.” Draco answered frostily. “Or they wouldn’t have chosen Goldstein over you.”

“Don’t worry about them.” Luna put in. “They’re just silly.”

Draco nodded in agreement. “Besides, now you will be able to spend more time with me and Luna.”

“I suppose.” Harry acknowledged glumly.

“And you’ll be able to hang out with Theo and Daphne too.” Draco added. “They’ve been talking about how they haven’t seen much of you this year.”

“And you can always sit with me at meals.” Luna told him. “Whenever you sit with me the nargles don’t bother me for days.”

Harry’s eyes narrowed. “Are they still bothering you, Luna?”

“They won’t now that you’ll be sitting with me.” Luna said airily.

Harry exchanged a look with Draco – he hated the idea that people were bullying Luna.

“Tell us who the nargles are.” Draco ordered her. “We’ll make them stop.”

“Don’t be silly.” Luna told him. “You can’t really stop nargles. Anyway, they’re not so bad now that I spend time with you and Harry.”

“Is there anything else we can do?” Harry asked. “Maybe we could walk you to your classes or something.”

Luna giggled. “You’re sweet.”

“Seriously, Luna.” Harry leaned forward. “You’d tell us if we could do anything, right?”

Luna shrugged with a small grin. “Maybe.”

They spent the next few minutes trying to convince Luna to tell them something, but eventually she just started humming absently and they gave up. Instead, Draco challenged Luna to a game of Wizarding Chess and Harry sat down at one of the desks to practise drawing runes. He’d been in the third year Ancient Runes class for two weeks and had found that he was actually miles ahead of the class in regards to theory, unfortunately he was rubbish at actually drawing the runes. Harry knew that he’d definitely made some improvement, but he was still nowhere up to Professor Babbling’s standards, or his own for that matter, and so was practising at every opportunity. There was no way he was going to settle for anything less than an Outstanding in their final exam.

Harry continued practising until the lunch bell and then he reluctantly followed Draco and Luna to the Great Hall for lunch. Anthony’s smug expression was the first thing Harry saw when he entered the hall and it had him fingering his wand. Terry, Michael and Rodney all gave him guilty looks, but then seemed determined to ignore him. Harry and Luna sat as far away from them as they could, but Harry’s stomach was churning too much for him to eat.

He felt so betrayed. It was like primary school all over again when the kids who befriended Harry eventually ditched him after Dudley’s bullying became too much for them to handle. By the time Harry had turned eight he had given up on the idea that anyone would want to be his friend badly enough to put up with bullies.  It was awful to have it happening again.

20-20-20

At two forty five, Harry and Draco left Luna at Hoth and walked down to Professor Snape’s office. Draco had been true to his word and had arranged for Cousin Narcissa to firecall Harry at three that afternoon. Draco had somehow managed to get his godfather to agree for them to use his quarters under the provision that Snape was present for the entire conversation. Harry wasn’t sure how he felt about that. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Professor Snape, he just didn’t trust the man as much as he trusted Cousin Narcissa and Draco.

They arrived at Snape’s door at five minutes to three and Draco knocked on the door. The door swung open almost immediately and Harry followed Draco into the room.

“Merry meet, Mr. Potter.” Professor Snape stood up from behind his desk and bowed.

“Merry meet, Professor.” Harry nodded in acknowledgement.

“Merry meet, Uncle Severus.” Draco smiled at his godfather. “How has your day been?”

Professor Snape sat down. “Well enough.”

Draco peered at the parchments on the desk. “Are you marking essays? On a Sunday?”

“When did you presume I marked them?” Snape asked with a raised eyebrow.

“During the week.” Draco answered. “And perhaps on Saturdays.”

“Has it occurred to you, Draco, that between preparing for and teaching classes, supervising detentions, and patrolling the corridors, I might not have the time to mark essays during the week?” Snape asked.

Draco looked unimpressed. “What about Saturday?”

“I was otherwise occupied. Not that it is any of your business.” Snape glared.

“Did you have a date?” Draco asked with a smirk.

Snape’s glare intensified, but there was no anger in it.

Harry watched with interest. The Professor Snape that interacted with Draco was really different to the one he saw in class. He seemed softer somehow, less angry. It wasn’t the first time Harry had seen his professor like this, he’s seen hints of it during his mediation lessons the year before, but he thought it was nice that Draco had a godfather who obviously loved him.

“Your mother should be calling at any moment.” Snape told Draco. “Perhaps you should move towards the fire.”

Draco’s smirk grew. “You did have a date! Who was it?”

“And there she is.” Professor Snape said, ignoring Draco entirely. “Go and greet your mother, Draco.”

Harry quickly spelled his sleeves to be rolled up to his elbows and followed Draco towards the fireplace.

“Merry meet, Draconus, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa greeted them from the fireplace.

“Merry meet, Mother.” Draco smiled.

“Merry meet, Cousin Narcissa.” Harry bowed.

Cousin Narcissa nodded in acknowledgement. “Are you there as well, Severus?”

“I am.” Professor Snape moved from behind the desk to stand near Harry. “Merry meet, Narcissa.” He bowed as Harry had.

“Merry meet.” Cousin Narcissa nodded. “Thank you for allowing us to use your fireplace.”

“You are welcome.” Professor Snape answered formally. “I will remain for the conversation, though I have taught Draco a spell to ensure that you can talk privately.”

Harry couldn’t help but feel a rush of relief. “Thank you, Professor.”

Professor Snape nodded briskly and walked back to his desk.

“Draconus?” Cousin Narcissa prompted.

Draco pulled out his wand. “Muffliato! Did you know that Uncle Severus used to invent spells, mother? He told me he invented this one!”

“I did, yes.” Cousin Narcissa nodded. “Your godfather is a very talented wizard. How about you both sit down.”

Draco pulled two cushions off the nearby couch and, after passing one to Harry, placed the other one on the ground and sat on it. Harry copied him.

“Now, Harry,” Cousin Narcissa started kindly. “What is it that you wished to discuss with me?”

Harry cleared his throat nervously. “I’ve been having some dreams.”

“Oh?”

“The first one was before school started,” Harry explained. “I don’t remember what happened, but when I woke up my scar was hurting.”

“His healer thinks that there is something hidden in his scar.” Draco interrupted. “She doesn’t know what though.”

Cousin Narcissa’s expression tightened slightly. “Go on, Harry.”

“I had another dream that made my scar hurt in September,” Harry continued. “Only I remembered what the dream was about. I was torturing a man named Wormtail.”

“How exactly were you torturing him?” Cousin Narcissa questioned.

“With a spell.” Harry answered. “I said ‘crucio’ and a red spell hit him.”

Cousin Narcissa’ expression was even tighter now. “I see. Do you remember why you were torturing him?”

Harry frowned in thought. “I think he had done something wrong. In the dream I said something about a boy, but that’s all I remember.”

“Have you had any other dreams?” Cousin Narcissa asked.

“Just one.” Harry replied. “On Christmas morning. I was torturing Wormtail again and there was a really big snake. I think I said something about a boy again, and at one point Wormtail said that someone’s dustbins had attacked him. I remember that because I thought it was really weird.”

Cousin Narcissa was looking very grim. “Is that all you remember?”

Harry fought down the urge to squirm nervously. Cousin Narcissa’s reaction was making him even more nervous.

“He thinks he knows who Wormtail is.” Draco answered for him.

“I don’t even know if the dreams are real.” Harry corrected his cousin. “But after the last dream, I remembered that I had read the name Wormtail before. Sirius gave me a book that he and his friends wrote when they were in school, but instead of signing it with their real names they signed it with their nicknames: Padfoot, Prongs, Moony and Wormtail.”

Cousin Narcissa didn’t say anything and, after a few seconds of silence, Harry gave into the urge to squirm. He’d barely even begun, when Draco elbowed him in the side and glared disapprovingly.

Eventually Cousin Narcissa spoke. “Thank you for telling me, Harry.”

“Do you think they’re real, Cousin Narcissa?” Harry questioned nervously. “Like visions or something?”

“I do.” Cousin Narcissa told him seriously.

Harry’s stomach clenched. “Does this mean I’m a seer? Like Professor Trelawney? Should I take divination next year?”

“Not necessarily.” Cousin Narcissa answered. “I am going to make several requests of you.”

Harry nodded. “Alright.”

“First, do you remember that during the summer I spoke to you about a pensieve?” Cousin Narcissa asked.

“The things that you can store memories in?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Cousin Narcissa agreed. “I would like you to put your memories of the dreams in vials and give them to Severus, he will give them to me and I will view them in a pensieve.”

Harry frowned. “How?”

“Severus will help you.” Cousin Narcissa promised.

“Okay.” Harry agreed. The whole idea of putting memories in vials seemed weird to him, let alone the idea of other people seeing the memories, but if Cousin Narcissa thought it was important…

“Have you heard of Occlumency, Harry?” Cousin Narcissa asked.

Harry nodded. “Yes, I started learning it last year. Professor Snape lent me one of his books.”

“Did he?” Cousin Narcissa looked surprised. “Excellent. You should practise it as much as you can. It may help you to stop having dreams.”

“Alright.” Harry told her.

“Thank you.” Cousin Narcissa smiled, though she still looked worried. “Please contact me again if you have any other dreams. Have you told anyone else?”

“No.” Harry answered. “Well, except Healer Axecure.”

“That’s his healer.” Draco explained in a disgruntled tone. “She’s a goblin!”

Cousin Narcissa looked slightly amused. “And what was her response?”

“She said she is investigating the matter.” Harry told her. “She’s been studying my scar since last year. Over the summer she had another goblin come and have a look at it too.”

“You haven’t discussed this matter with Sirius?” Cousin Narcissa asked.

“No,” Harry sighed. “I don’t think he would like the fact that I dream about torturing people. He hates dark magic.”

Cousin Narcissa’s expression tightened again. “I see. Draconus mentioned that you would like me to talk to him?”

Harry winced at how demanding that made him sound. “I told Draco that I was worried he might not let me see your family when he has custody of me and Draco suggested that you might be able to help.”

“I will do what I can.” Cousin Narcissa promised. “I will need you to write me a letter explaining what you’re worried about and why.”

“Thank you.” Harry beamed at her, feeling relieved despite the seriousness of their previous topic of conversation. “Would it help if I send you copies of some of the letters he has written me?”

“Yes,” Cousin Narcissa agreed. “That will do quite nicely. Now lower the spell, Draconus, and call your godfather over.”

“Yes, Mother.” Draco answered before cancelling the spell. “Uncle Severus? Mother would like to speak to you.”

Professor Snape scowled as he stood and walked towards them, but he didn’t look particularly upset. “Yes, Narcissa?”

“Harry has been having some concerning dreams.” Cousin Narcissa said. “I need him to send me his memories. I have assured him that you will help.”

Harry’s stomach fluttered nervously as Snape turned his scowl on him.

“I see.” Snape answered. “Was there anything else?”

“It is vital that he learn Occlumency as rapidly as possible.” Cousin Narcissa told him. “He has informed me that you have lent him a book. Is there anything else you could do to speed up the process?”

“That depends on how much progress Mr. Potter has made on his own.” Professor Snape said. “The method of Occlumency that he is learning takes time and the first step must be done on his own.”

“I’ve almost finished it, sir.” Harry assured his professor quickly. “I think I’ll be finished by the end of the week.”

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow in surprise. “Then I will expect you at precisely seven next Sunday evening, Mr. Potter.”

“Yes, sir.” Harry agreed seriously, though he couldn’t help but feel excited – his Occlumency would progress much quicker with Professor Snape’s help.

“I will leave you to it then.” Cousin Narcissa decided. “Please send me the memories as soon as possible, Severus.”

“Of course.” Snape agreed. “Merry part, Narcissa.”

“Merry part.” Cousin Narcissa agreed.

20-20-20

 


	22. Chapter 21

It took Harry a couple of days to figure out how to deal with his friends backing off from their friendship with him. At first he’d mostly pretended everything was normal and sat with them in classes but, while they had claimed that they would be just ‘backing off a little bit’, to Harry it felt an awful lot like they weren’t friends anymore. In fact, now it felt as though they were just using him to get good grades. As though that wasn’t bad enough, the Ravenclaw girls had apparently decided that since the boys weren’t talking to Harry, they wouldn’t either. It didn’t come as a huge shock to Harry, Lisa Turpin had never really gotten over their conversation about muggles from a few months earlier, but it certainly didn’t make things easier.

So, on the third day after his dorm mates had told him that they were backing off, Harry decided not to sit with any of his housemates in classes anymore. It was easy enough to do in their classes with the Slytherins and Gryffindors, in those classes he would just sit with Draco and Neville respectively, but it was much harder with the class that they shared with the Hufflepuffs. Still, most of the time he got to class early enough to nab a seat next to one of the Hufflepuffs and, on the few occasions where he couldn’t, he just ignored whatever Ravenclaw he was sitting beside – just like they were ignoring him.

Anthony seemed to think it was the best thing ever and he seemed to spend half his time sending Harry smug looks.

Luna was great, Harry honestly didn’t know how he would have coped without her. He sat next to her during meals and she always managed to distract him from the sight of his friends laughing together down the table. He spent his time between classes with Draco, Luna, Neville and the second year Slytherins. Harry had even started trying to convince Neville to try spending time with the Slytherins. He hadn’t managed to convince him yet, but he was determined to succeed.

The biggest problem with hanging out with the Slytherins was Pansy Parkinson. She was awful! Harry didn’t know how Draco could stand her always fawning over him. She seemed to dislike Harry just as much as Anthony did, though Harry had no idea why. It worried him though – this was how the entire thing with his dorm mates had started. What if the Slytherins decided to ignore him too?

Quidditch practise was awkward. It was the one place that Terry would talk to him, probably because there was no way that Anthony would find out, but Harry found that he didn’t really want to talk to the other boy. It made him angry that Terry thought he could ignore him and then pretend as though nothing had changed at Quidditch practise.

Thankfully, Jeremy was working them hard and there wasn’t much time to socialise at the practises. Their game against the Gryffindors was on the first Saturday of February and the Gryffindor team was practising every single day. Harry was glad he wasn’t a Gryffindor – at least his team understood the importance of balancing sport and homework. Now that he was taking Ancient Runes on top of his other classes, Harry barely had time to complete all his homework without having Quidditch practises every day too.

21-21-21

Copying his memories and putting them in a small crystal vial was definitely one of the weirdest -things Harry had ever done – and one of the hardest. Despite all the work he had done to organise his memories into a mental library it still took Harry multiple tries to even locate the correct memory with the spell, let alone copy it and deposit it in the vial. Professor Snape was incredibly patient, amazingly so in Harry’s opinion, and only started to look irritated during Harry’s twentieth attempt to get the second memory.

Harry grinned inwardly at how disbelieving his dorm mates would be if he tried to tell them about how patient Snape was being, before remembering that they weren’t talking to him anymore. It made Harry’s stomach twist awfully.

A week after Harry had met with Cousin Narcissa, he met with Professor Snape for Occlumency lessons. Snape had him sit in one of the armchairs in his office and then asked him a lot of questions about how Harry had been practising Occlumency. He didn’t come out and say it, but Harry was pretty sure that the professor was impressed by how far Harry had come.  

After he had finished asking questions, Snape cast the legilimens spell and had a look at the library Harry had created out of his memories. It was a bizarre sensation, having someone else in his head, and Harry was thankful that the professor didn’t pick up any of the books to look at his memories.

Eventually, Snape released the spell. “Very efficiently done, Mr. Potter. Have you given any thought to what manner of defences you will create?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry nodded excitedly. “I want to build a muggle city around it.”

Snape studied him silently for a few seconds. “For what reason?”

“I was thinking about how I wanted people to get lost.” Harry explained. “And then I remembered Draco’s face when Cousin Narcissa took us to the muggle world. I thought that if I built a muggle world where anyone trying to break into my mind would have to take the bus and maybe the tube, then most wizards would get confused.”

Snape nodded slowly. “A well-reasoned plan. However, there are many wizards who know their way around a city.”

“I know.” Harry admitted. “So I thought I could add extra protections as well.”

“I would advise that you also build a second library,” Snape said. “There may be times when you wish to give someone the impression that they have succeeded in breaking into your mind – you could do so by showing them a second library that only contains the memories that you wish them to see.”

Harry’s eyes widened excitedly. “That’s brilliant, professor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” Snape answered dryly.

Professor Snape insisted on teaching Harry occlumency every single evening, though Harry suspected that it Cousin Narcissa who was actually behind Snape’s insistence. While Harry was thankful for his professor’s willingness to help it did mean that he had to change his schedule yet again. Now he practised his wandless magic in the morning, his Occlumency every evening at seven and he read for pleasure for an hour every night before bed. He was currently working his way through the book that Daphne Greengrass had given him for Christmas that discussed the traditional wizarding holidays like Samhain. It was very interesting.

Still, with the added Occlumency lessons, Harry’s days were very busy and the rest of January went by quickly. It was good though, Harry found he barely had time to miss his Ravenclaw friends and by the beginning of February he found that he no longer felt like crying or cursing one of them whenever he saw them all together.

Harry was just glad that he had other friends. He still went running with Takashi and Neville every morning, then he would eat breakfast with Luna, spend lunch with both Draco and Luna, and, on the days when he didn’t have too much homework, hang out with the Slytherins after classes (except for Thursdays when he, Neville and Takashi met to practise their wandless magic).

He was still trying to convince Neville to hang out with the Slytherins with him, but the Gryffindor was stubbornly refusing.

“But why?” Harry asked in frustration one day as they made their way to the Great Hall after their morning run. “What do you have against them?”

“They’re dark!” Neville told him firmly.

Harry stopped in his tracks and glared at Neville’s back. He had known that Neville believed that dark wizards were bad, but he was getting sick of hearing about it.

It took Neville a few seconds to realise that Harry had stopped, but when he did he turned around and gave Harry a questioning look. Takashi stopped as well, though his expression was more concerned than anything, and Harry waved the older boy to go on.

“What’s the matter?” Neville asked.

“Come with me.” Harry snapped and led Neville down towards the lake. He didn’t want anyone to overhear their conversation.

“Harry?” Neville asked questioningly. “Why are you upset? It’s not like you didn’t already know that they were dark.”

“Dark doesn’t equal evil, Neville.” Harry told him passionately as he came to a halt and spun around to face his friend. “Dark magic just is. Evil is about intention not what kind of magic you have.”

Neville frowned suspiciously. “Did Malfoy tell you that?”

“Yes,” Harry admitted. “But so did Takashi.”

Neville looked towards the castle, as though he would be able to see Takashi. “Really? Takashi?”

“Do you know why else I know that dark magic isn’t evil?” Harry asked him, crossing his arms.

Neville didn’t answer.

“Because my magic is dark.” Harry told him.

Neville stepped back in surprise. “What?”

“And actually, while we’re categorising peoples’ magic,” Harry continued. “You know Theo Nott? His magic is light and he’s a Slytherin. And Peter Pettigrew’s magic was light too and he betrayed my parents to Voldemort.”

Neville opened his mouth and then closed it again, before eventually talking. “How can your magic be dark? You’re Harry Potter!”

“So?” Harry asked. “My dad was the first light wizard to be born to the House of Potter since the seventeen hundreds. Apparently people blamed it on my dad’s grandmother who was a Longbottom.”

“Are you sure your magic is dark?” Neville asked desperately.

Harry sighed. “I’m a parselmouth, Nev. Besides, I can just tell when I meditate, can’t you?”

“Yeah.” Neville sighed too.

“Dark wizards aren’t all evil.” Harry said after a moment of silence. “Just like light wizards aren’t all good.”

“But Gran said…” Neville started.

“I can guess what your gran said.” Harry interrupted. “It’s the same thing most people say. But you know me, you know I’m not evil.”

“Yeah.” Neville looked conflicted.

“How about you just think about it.” Harry told him. “Just please don’t tell anyone. People would really freak out if they found out.”

Neville chuckled weakly. “I’ll say.”

They walked to the Great Hall in silence, before splitting up to eat breakfast at their individual house tables. Harry found Luna’s blond hair in the bustle of the Ravenclaw table and slid into the seat beside her.

“He’ll understand, Harry.” Luna greeted him. “He just needs a day to get rid of the Pseudologoi in his brain.”

Harry had no idea what Pseudologoi were, but he nodded thankfully to his friend. It was a relief to know that Neville wasn’t going to decide to hate him, Harry had already lost enough friends that month.

21-21-21

Despite Luna’s words, Harry had expected it to take Neville at least a week to bring up their conversation. So he was surprised when Neville pulled him aside after their run the next morning,

“I’m sorry.” Neville told him nervously.

Harry frowned in confusion. “What for?”

Neville shrugged. “I shouldn’t have freaked out.”

Harry laughed in relief. “It’s fine, understandable even.”

“So you’re really a dark wizard?” Neville whispered.

“Yes.” Harry nodded seriously.

“Okay.” Neville nodded slowly. “Then I believe you that dark wizards aren’t all evil. I’m not going to tell Gran though, she really will freak out.”

“Fair enough.” Harry grinned. “Will you come hang out with the Slytherins then?”

Neville frowned. “No, just because you’re not evil, doesn’t mean that they’re not.”

“They’re our age!” Harry argued. “They’re no more evil than I am.”

“That’s easy for you to say.” Neville snapped, he took a deep breath and looked away.

Harry stepped closer in concern. “Neville, what is it?”

“Do you know what happened to my parents?” Neville asked quietly.

“No,” Harry answered softly. “But I presumed that they had been killed in the war or something, since you live with your gran.”

“They’re still alive.” Neville said. “But, they, they, they’re really sick. Some Death Eaters, including Bellatrix Lestrange who is Malfoy’s aunt, tortured them and now they don’t even know who I am.”

Harry stared at his friend in horror. “That’s awful!”

“Yeah,” Neville nodded brokenly. “So you’ll understand why I don’t want to spend time with Malfoy.”

Harry bit his lip unsurely. “But, Neville, it wasn’t Draco who hurt your parents. You can’t blame him.”

“He’s related to her!” Neville spat.

“So?” Harry asked. “Your great-uncle dropped you out of a window, but I don’t hate you because your uncle’s a jerk.”

“That’s different!” Neville protested.

“It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t bounced.” Harry argued. “Then he would have killed you.”

Neville was silent for a few seconds. “I just can’t, Harry. Every time I see him, I think about my parents and how they don’t know me. And then I think about the fact that he still has parents who know who he is and I just want to curse him!”

Harry sighed. “Alright, I’ll stop asking you about it. Can I just say one last thing though?”

Neville nodded reluctantly.

“I don’t think Draco likes his aunt either.” Harry told him. “He talks about her sometimes and he thinks she’s really horrible.”

Neville turned for the door. “We should go to breakfast.”

“Okay.” Harry sighed.

21-21-21

The day of the Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor Quidditch game was a few days later. Harry nervously ate his breakfast with the rest of the Quidditch team and tried to ignore Terry’s presence beside him. He felt more nervous than he had before the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff game and he thought it was probably because the older members of the team were more nervous too.

“Harry!” The Weasley twins’ voices chorused from behind him and Harry barely managed to stop himself from flinching.

That was the other reason he was more nervous. Fred and George were probably the best beaters at Hogwarts and Harry really didn’t want to be hit by a bludger.

“What do you want, Weasleys?” Jeremy asked, half rising out of his seat.

“We just wanted to wish our friend luck.” One of the twins defended.

“Good luck, Harry.” They chorused, each slapping on him on a different shoulder.

Harry twisted around so that he could see them. “Thanks, you too.”

“Luck?” One of them asked. “We don’t need luck do we, Gred?”

“Certainly not, Forge.” The other twin replied, before they walked back to the Gryffindor table.

“You’re friends with them?” Roger Davis, one of the Ravenclaw chasers, asked in disbelief.

“Yes.” Harry answered.

“So we don’t need to worry about protecting you from bludgers then?” Inglebee, the third year beater, asked.

Samuels, the other beater, snorted. “Are you kidding me? They’ll probably target him more. They have a weird idea of friendship. You know their friend Lee Jordan?”

Inglebee looked over at the Gryffindor table. “The black guy with dreads?”

“Yeah,” Samuels agreed. “I heard that in their first year they replaced his shampoo with a hair removal potion. The kid took it really well though and wouldn’t let Pomfrey grow his hair back for a week.”

“Really?” Inglebee’s eyes widened.

“Really.” Samuels nodded.

Harry’s stomach fluttered nervously and he twisted around to look at Weasley twins who were sitting with the Gryffindor team, all of whom were laughing loudly. He really didn’t want to be hit by a bludger.

21-21-21

“And they’re off!” Lee Jordan’s voice echoed around the Quidditch pitch. “Gryffindor has possession of the quaffle, Bell passes it to Angelina who weaves around Davis and drops it down to Spinnett…”

Harry slowly circled the pitch as he searched the sky for any sign of the snitch, but couldn’t see anything. The Gryffindor seeker, a seventh year by the name of Warren Tate, was tailing him and Harry wasn’t sure whether he should be disgusted or pleased by the older boy’s lack of skill. Tate had spent the entire Gryffindor versus Slytherin game tailing the Slytherin seeker and had had no chance of catching the snitch because of it.

In a way it was good though, ever since he had faced Cedric Diggory, in their game versus the Hufflepuff team, he had wanted to try faking a snitch sighting. At least with Tate’s incompetence he wouldn’t feel half as worried about the idea.

Hooch’s whistle blew loudly and Harry looked down to see that Gryffindor had just scored a goal. He winced when he saw the scoreboard: 40-10 to the Gryffindors. He really needed to catch the snitch fast!

Harry scanned the field for the snitch again and then, clenching his teeth in determination, he pointed his broom towards the far corner of the pitch and began racing towards it. His path took him straight into Katie Bell and Harry smirked when she dropped the quaffle in her hurry to get out of his way.

“Foul! Foul!” Jordan was shouting. “He tried to run her down.”

Harry sped towards the ground at top speed, pulling up at the last minute and doing one of the trick turns he had been practising.

“Woah!” Jordan’s voice echoed. “Look at that turn, pretty impressive really considering that this is only Potter’s second game.”

Harry looked around for Tate and grimaced when he saw that the other seeker had come to a halt twenty feet above him and was staring at him in shock. What was the point in pulling Wronski Feint if your opponent couldn’t keep up?

“Impressive, Potter.” Tate acknowledged as Harry flew past him.

“Thanks.”

Harry went back to circling over the pitch and, much to his disgust, Tate went back to trailing him. Hadn’t he just proven to the older boy that he had no chance of beating Harry to the snitch? Tate’s only chance was to spot the snitch first.

A few minutes later, Harry saw a black shadow out of the corner of his eye and grimaced. He had been so focussed on looking for the snitch that he had forgotten to be on the lookout for bludgers. He turned his head slightly and his eyes widened when he realised it was just seconds away from hitting him. Bollocks!

Harry loosened his grip on his broom and threw himself to the side, swinging under the broom. Breathing a sigh of relief as the bludger harmlessly sped past him, Harry decided that he would have to thank Draco for teaching him that move.

“Wow!” Tate said. “That’s amazing.”

Harry righted himself on the broom, before grinning at the older boy. “Thanks.”

“Bell shoots and scores!” Jordan’s voice rang out. “Gryffindor, one hundred, Ravenclaw, forty.”

Harry winced, he really needed to find the snitch. It was barely a minute later that the next bludger sped past Harry who this time had spotted it in time to avoid it without ending up hanging from his broom. Thirty seconds later there was another bludger, then three minutes later another one.

Harry looked around the field for the Ravenclaw Beaters who were supposed to be stopping the bludgers. It only took a few seconds for Harry to realise the problem, the Weasley twins were flying rings around them. Harry ducked out of the way of yet another bludger and aimed a glare at the closest twin.

“150-60 to Gryffindor.” Lee’s voice announced and Harry growled in frustration. The Gryffindors were six goals away from winning regardless of who caught the snitch. He needed to catch the snitch soon, but the Weasley twins were keeping him too busy to have much of a chance of spotting it.

He scanned the pitch quickly and then sped towards the other end of the pitch quickly, stopping halfway to look again, before continuing. Once he reached the other side of the pitch he stopped again, looked around for bludgers and then, seeing that all was clear, scanned the field for the snitch again. There was nothing, so Harry sprinted across the field diagonally, stopping halfway again to search for the snitch.

It was hard work, sprinting across the field over and over again, but it meant that that was never in the same place long enough for the Weasleys to effectively aim a bludger at him.

“Spinnet scores!” Lee’s voice echoed. “Gryffindor, one eighty, Ravenclaw seventy.”

Harry ducked quickly as bludger darted over his head, he had obviously stayed in the same place for far too long.

It didn’t take long for the Weasley’s to figure out how to counter Harry’s avoidance and then Harry started having to zigzag across the field to keep them guessing.

“Gryffindor, 200, Ravenclaw 70!” Lee announced gleefully.

Harry darted left, then right, then dropped ten feet, before darting right again, damn the bludgers!

He was about the dart left again when he saw Tate moving out of the corner of his eyes. He turned quickly and saw that the older boy was racing towards the far end of the field. Harry turned his broom around and sprinted after the other seeker, ignoring the aching of his exhausted legs. He didn’t think he had ever worked this hard before – he was never going to describe Jeremy’s practises as intense again.

He was halfway across the pitch when he saw the snitch, barely thirty feet ahead of Tate. Harry leant forward on his broom and just concentrated on it going faster. Faster, faster, he needed to go faster!

Suddenly the snitch darted upwards and Harry immediately corrected his direction.

Tate was just ten feet away from the snitch now, but Harry was catching up, twenty feet and counting, and the snitch was still moving, it darted left, then right.

Harry clenched his teeth tightly and focused entirely on the snitch. Fifteen feet, ten feet, Tate was only five feet away from the snitch.

Damn, damn, damn! Harry snarled to himself, before suddenly getting an idea. He waited until he was five feet away from the snitch, and Tate was reaching out an arm to grab the snitch before shouting:

“Tate! Watch out for the bludger!”

Tate twisted his head around quickly, snitch forgotten, and Harry tried not to feel guilty as he sped past the other seeker and grabbed the snitch out of the air.

“What?!” Lee’s voice sounded through the stadium. “Are you kidding me? Tate was so close!”

“Jordan!” McGonagall’s voice chided.

“Fine.” Lee’s voice was glum. “Potter catches the snitch. Ravenclaw win.”

Harry held the snitch tightly as he slowed down and turned his broom around. Then he flew back to where Tate was hovering.

“Sorry.”

Tate shrugged. “It’s alright, I shouldn’t have let you distract me.”

“It was a pretty cheap move though.” Harry acknowledged.

“It’s Quidditch, kid.” Tate grinned wryly. “There’s no such thing as a cheap move. You’re good. You should consider trying out for the under seventeen league over the summer.”

“Seriously?” Harry asked incredulously. He had heard of the league of course, but the players in it were almost always at least fifteen.

“Maybe in a few years.” Tate admitted, he reached out a hand. “Good game.”

Harry grasped his hand. “Thanks, you too.”

 


	23. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter (it's one of my favourite in the story). I hope you all enjoy it!

Narcissa Malfoy gracefully stepped out of the Interlaken Magical Wellness Retreat’s fireplace, before pausing for a moment to spell away any ash that might have settle on her robes. International flooing was always more irritating than domestic flooing as it required multiple stages of the journey. On this instance she had flooed from Malfoy Manor, to the British Floo Terminus, then to the French equivalent, then to the Swiss equivalent, before finally flooing to the Wellness Retreat where Sirius was staying.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

Narcissa shifted her attention to the young witch who had addressed her in German. The girl, who looked as though she was barely out of school, was dressed in tidy grey robes with the name ‘Ingegerd’ embroidered on the left panel.

“I am here to see Lord Black.” Narcissa answered in slightly accented German – her mother would have been horrified. Clearly she needed to spend more time speaking the language.

Ingegerd looked surprised and then slightly jealous. “Is Siriu…I mean, Lord Black expecting you, ma’am?”

“No.” Narcissa answered flatly. “Please inform him that his cousin, Lady Malfoy, is here to see him.”

The girl looked relieved and Narcissa mentally rolled her eyes. Sirius was obviously feeling better if he was seducing the help. Though why he would have chosen that particular girl to flirt with was beyond Narcissa’s understanding, the girl was at least ten years younger than him. Merlin, she hoped Sirius wasn’t going to take after their Uncle Alphard who had been infamous for seducing girls less than half his age. It was no wonder Alphard had died so young, Narcissa was surprised that it had taken fifty two years for an angry father to decide to dispose of the man.

Once Ingegerd had left through a large wooden door, presumably to find Sirius, Narcissa looked around the room. Clearly she was in some sort of reception area, there was a large desk near two large glass doors that were obviously the main entrance and a few chairs that she presumed functioned as a waiting area.

Narcissa wasn’t accustomed to waiting, it wasn’t something that was often required of her, but she made her way towards the seats and sat down. There was a selection of magazines on a small table beside her chair and she eventually chose one on the subject of business. The House of Malfoy didn’t have any investments in Switzerland, perhaps she ought to consider changing that.

“Lady Malfoy?”

“Yes?” Narcissa returned the magazine to the table and turned her attention to Ingegerd.

“Lord Black has agreed to meet with you.” Ingegerd answered, looking a bit disgruntled. “If you’ll follow me.”

Narcissa followed the girl through the building and then into a small room that reminded her of one of the many sitting rooms in Malfoy Manor, though not quite as tastefully decorated.

Sirius was sitting in one of the large armchairs, looking every inch the noble lord he was – well except for the childish scowl on his face. Narcissa studied her cousin for a moment, before turning her attention to the other wizard in the room. The man looked vaguely familiar, but Narcissa couldn’t place him. He looked closer to Bellatrix’ age than Sirius’ and his robes were faded and frayed.

“Is there anything else I can get you, Sirius?” Ingegerd asked with a flirty smile, obviously not put off by his scowl

Sirius’s scowl disappeared as he turned to her and replied in flawless German. “No, thank you, darling.”

Narcissa raised an eyebrow in distain as Ingegerd giggled and fluttered her eyelashes before backing out of the room. Did the girl have no shame?

The instant the girl was gone, Sirius’ scowl returned and he shifted his attention back to Narcissa. “What the hell do you want?”

Narcissa curtsied elegantly and, following his lead, replied in English. “Merry meet, Lord Black.”

Sirius’ scowl darkened. “Don’t do that, you know I don’t go in for all that bloody traditionalist nonsense.”

“Come on, Sirius.” The other man chided. “There’s no need to be rude.”

“No need to be rude?” Sirius’ expression changed to one of shock. “Remus, she’s a bloody Death Eater!”

So the man was Remus Lupin then – no wonder he looked familiar. Narcissa had been a fifth year during Sirius’ first year at Hogwarts, but she still remembered seeing her cousin running around with his little band of friends. Of course it was no wonder she hadn’t recognised him immediately, Lupin had only been thirteen when she had last seen him. Narcissa wondered what had happened in the wizard’s life to make him look so aged.

“You don’t know that.” Lupin told her cousin gently, though his expression was almost as suspicious as Sirius’ was. “Look, you can see her arm – there’s no dark mark.”

“She could be hiding it.” Sirius answered sullenly. “That’s what they do you know. How else would those traditionalist bastards walk around with their sleeves rolled up?”

Narcissa had to admit that her cousin had a good point. The Death Eaters did all use a glamour to hide their mark when their sleeves were rolled up in obeisance. The location of the dark mark was, in her and Lucius’ opinion, just another example of how little the Dark Lord understood and respected their traditions.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Lupin asked.

“And what good will that do?” Sirius answered belligerently. “She’ll just lie.”

Lupin tapped his nose with a weird amount of deliberateness. “Why don’t you ask her?”

Sirius stared at him for a moment, before his expression suddenly transformed into one of understanding – though Narcissa had no idea what it was that he thought he understood.

“Oh, right, yeah,” Sirius nodded and turned his attention back to her. “Are you a Death Eater?”

“No.” Narcissa told him flatly and then, because she wanted her cousin to believe her for Harry’s sake if not for her own, she added: “I have never supported the Dark Lord’s campaign.”

Lupin’s expression shifted into one of shock. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Really?” Sirius asked disbelievingly. “Are you sure?”

“Well, either that or she’s an exceptionally talented liar.” Lupin admitted.

Sirius scoffed. “Cissy a good liar? She can put on a good face, sure, but lying was never her area of expertise. Bellatrix, however…”

“Is a Death Eater.” Narcissa finished smoothly, before mentally berating herself for forgetting her manners and interrupting him. Sirius was the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black now and she needed to remember that.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter. “Glad you’re not going to try to deny that.”

“As was Regulus.” Narcissa reminded him, ignoring the way her cousin flinched at the reminder. “So let’s not judge one another for the decisions of our siblings.”

“Fine.” Sirius answered grudgingly. “Are you going to sit down? Or were planning on standing all day?”

“With your lordship’s permission.” Narcissa answered.

Sirius scowled. “Sit.”

Narcissa daintily settled herself in the chair opposite the two wizards and settled her hands in her lap.

“What do you want, Cissy?” Sirius asked after a short silence.

“I am here on behalf of your heir.” Narcissa told him.

“Harry?” Sirius’ expression darkened again. “Why the hell would I talk to you about Harry? You might not be a bloody Death Eater, but your husband is.”

“My husband was the one who got you out of Azkaban.” Narcissa retorted.

“Madame Bones got me out of Azkaban.” Sirius argued. “Along with the Wizengamot.”

“And who do you think it was that brought your case to Lady Bones’ attention?” Narcissa asked.

Sirius and Lupin exchanged astonished looks. “What?”

“The instant that Lucius and I heard that you hadn’t been granted a trial we began working for your release.” Narcissa told him. “I am only sorry that we did not find out until last year.”

“But why?” Sirius looked confused. “Why would Lucius bloody Malfoy care?”

“Because you are my cousin.” Narcissa told him. “And Harry’s godfather, and the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.”

Sirius grimaced. “Don’t remind me.”

“You know Harry then?” Lupin asked.

“Of course.” Narcissa answered. “He is Draconus’ best friend. Not to mention, my cousin.

“Draconus?” Sirius asked with an incredulous chuckled. “You named your son Draconus?”

Narcissa frown slightly. “It is a perfectly respectable name.”

“And he’s not your cousin.” Sirius said. “You’re barely related to him.”

“He’s my first cousin once removed.” Narcissa retorted. “His grandmother was my great aunt.”

“Really?” Lupin asked.

“And what do you mean he’s your son’s best friend?” Sirius went on. “I would know if they were friends.”

Narcissa frowned disapprovingly. “From what I understood, he told you of his acquaintance with our family in one of his first letters. When it took you four weeks to reply to that letter, Draconus advised him to keep their friendship a secret so not to upset you.”

Sirius winced. “But I asked him about your family a few months ago and he didn’t say anything.”

Narcissa pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket and unrolled it. She was glad that Harry had sent her several of Sirius’ letters, it would certainly make her role here easier.

“I presume you are referring to the letter in which you wrote,” Narcissa paused and began to read from the parchment. “You’re not still spending time with him are you? I doubt he’s the one who attacked the cat, he is only your age, but he is a Malfoy and his father was one of the You-Know-Who’s most loyal supporters. The Malfoy’s are dark wizards through and through. Narcissa, the Malfoy in your years’ mother, is actually my first cousin which explains everything really.”

“Sirius!” Lupin chided his friend.

“What?” Sirius asked defensively. “It’s true!”

Narcissa shot him her most disapprovingly look. “Shall I read you the letter that Harry sent me last month?”

“Harry writes you letters?” Sirius asked in horror.

“Yes, please.” Lupin answered her politely.

“Remus!” Sirius protested.

“Come on, Sirius.” Lupin said gently. “Don’t you want to know more about Harry?”

“Fine.” Sirius crossed his arms sulkily.

Narcissa looked back down at the parchment in her hands. “Dear Cousin Narcissa…”

“He calls you Cousin Narcissa?” Sirius interrupted loudly.

“Quiet, Sirius.” Lupin chided.

“Dear Cousin Narcissa,” Narcissa started again. “I hope that you and Lord Malfoy are well. As you know I have been corresponding with Sirius, but his letters make me uncomfortable. He’s always writing about how much he hates Slytherins, and Professor Snape, and your family, and dark wizards, a lot of the time he sounds really cruel. What if he starts being cruel to me too?”

“What?” Sirius asked weakly. “I would never…”

Narcissa continued. “What if he finds out that my magic is dark and hates me like the Dursleys hate me for having magic.”

“His magic is dark?” Sirius sounded horrified. “But how…?”

“Surely you have not forgotten your magical theory.” Narcissa asked disdainfully. “And I don’t mean the nonsense that you were taught at Hogwarts.”

Sirius scowled. “Just because you believed everything that your parents taught you…”

“And you believed everything that Dumbledore taught you!” Narcissa interrupted him.

“Dumbledore is a great wizard!” Sirius snapped.

“Dumbledore is a muggle loving fool!” Narcissa retorted.

“I knew you were a Death Eater!” Sirius stood up angrily.

“I am not a Death Eater!” Narcissa stood as well, angrier than she had been in years. “Preferring my own culture’s traditions over another’s does not make me a bloodthirsty terrorist. Just as being an untraditional Gryffindor did not make Peter Pettigrew a good man!”

Sirius and Lupin both flinched back as though she had slapped them.

“The world is not all black and white, Sirius.” Narcissa told him. “Not all traditionalists are dark wizards and not all dark wizards are evil!”

“Name me one dark wizard that isn’t a traditionalist.” Sirius sneered.

“The Dark Lord.” Narcissa snapped. “But Lord Odgen is a traditionalist and he is a light wizard. Peter Pettigrew was a light wizard and he was a Death Eater, I am a dark witch and I am not a Death Eater!”

There was a long pause, before Lupin leaned forward curiously. “You-Know-Who wasn’t a traditionalist?”

“Certainly not.” Narcissa answered calmly as she returned to her seat. “He has little regard for culture or tradition, his only aim is genocide.”

“Then why does your husband follow him?” Sirius sat back down with a sneer.

“He doesn’t.”

“Rubbish.” Sirius spat. “Don’t tell me you’re going to give me that bloody imperious excuse.”

Narcissa studied him carefully. “Is this room secure?”

“What?” Sirius asked in confusion.

Narcissa took out her wand and began casting the series of privacy spells that Amelia Bones had taught her.

“What are you doing?” Sirius asked after a few spells.

“Making sure the room is secure.” Narcissa answered between spells. When she felt the last spell lock into place, she stood up and knelt gracefully in front of Sirius’ chair.

“What the hell are you doing?” Sirius yelped.

“Invoking the Familia Iuramento Veritatis.” Narcissa told him. “Do you know your part?”

“Of course I do.” Sirius snapped with a scowl.

Narcissa offered Sirius her hand and nodded in satisfaction when he took it, however grudgingly. “I, Narcissa Malfoy, daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, swear to Sirius Orion Black, the Lord of the House of my birth, that Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, has never served the wizard known as Voldemort by his own volition. So mote it be.”

There was a pause and then Sirius spoke. “I, Sirius Orion Black, Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, accept your oath. So mote it be.”

“What was that?” Lupin asked curiously.

“It’s an oath of truth that only works within family lines.” Sirius explained after he dropped Narcissa’s hand. “She’s telling the truth.”

“How do you know?” Lupin asked

Narcissa stood up and returned to her seat. “His magic would have informed him if I had lied.”

“So Malfoy isn’t a Death Eater?” Lupin asked in disbelief.

“Not by his own volition.” Sirius corrected. “Whatever the hell that means.”

Narcissa pursed her lips. “You were not the only wizard who did not agree with his parents’ beliefs. You were, however, fortunate enough not have those beliefs forced upon him.”

“So you’re trying to tell me that your husband was forced to join You-Know-Who?” Sirius asked sceptically.

“I’m not trying to do anything.” Narcissa told him. “You know that I told the truth.”

“Yeah,” Sirius nodded absently. “It’s just so hard to believe.”

“I can understand that.” Narcissa allowed and there was another long silence.

“So Harry has dark magic?” Lupin broke the silence.

“He does.” Narcissa inclined her head. “You understand that I am taking a risk in telling you? I doubt Harry would be pleased.”

“How does he know?” Sirius asked, his head in his hands.

“He mediates daily and has achieved an astonishing level of connection with his magic.” Narcissa explained. “Beyond that, he is a parselmouth.”

“What?!” Sirius asked loudly.

“Stop it, Sirius.” Lupin rebuked his friend. “Unless you’re going to start judging werewolves for their condition too?”

Sirius looked startled and Narcissa wondered what that had been about. Personally, she didn’t have anything against werewolves. The fear and hatred towards them was yet another thing that had been forced on their world by muggleborns.

“Sorry.” Sirius sighed. “So Harry’s worried that I will hate him for being a dark wizard?”

“It seems so.” Narcissa agreed. “I should probably also warn you that Severus Snape is Harry’s favourite professor.”

“What?!” Sirius’ face screwed up in horror. “There is no way that Snivellus is his favourite professor!”

“It has been over fifteen years since you left Hogwarts,” Narcissa told him icily. “And while you may not have grown up since then, Severus has. Though, your relentless bullying certainly didn’t help.”

“Bullying?!” Sirius sneered. “So you’re taking his side then? It’s not as though he couldn’t fight back!”

“Yes, one against four,” Narcissa replied with a sneer of her own. “Those are perfectly fair odds.”

Lupin looked shamefaced. “She’s right, Sirius.”

“Come on, Remus!” Sirius turned to his friend, half defensive, half pleading. “We weren’t bullies.”

“Shall I continue reading the letter?” Narcissa offered.

Sirius nodded jerkily.

Narcissa unrolled the parchment again and began reading. “He tells me a lot of stories about pranks that he used to pull on Professor Snape and they were sort of funny at first, but now they seem more like bullying. Were he and my dad really bullies?”

Sirius looked devastated and Narcissa couldn’t but feel a flash of triumph. Her cousin wasn’t a bad man, but he had always been a stubborn and selfish one – maybe this would be what he needed to help him grow up.

“Mostly I’m worried that I won’t be able to see you, Draco and Lord Malfoy anymore.” Narcissa continued reading. “Draco says he’s one of Dumbledore’s friends and Dumbledore tried to tell me not to be friends with Draco earlier this year. The Dursleys are bad enough, but at least last summer I got to see you and Draco every third day, what if Sirius hates me and won’t let me see you?”

“Is that it?” Sirius asked weakly when Narcissa stopped reading.

“That’s all that’s relevant, yes.”

“What did he mean, ‘the Dursleys are bad enough’?” Lupin asked.

“They abuse him.” Narcissa answered bluntly. “He spent the summer covered in bruises and half starved. I wouldn’t be surprised if the only time he ate all summer was with me.”

Sirius was shaking his head. “Dumbledore wouldn’t let that happen.”

Narcissa sneered. “Just like Dumbledore wouldn’t have allowed you to be sent to Azkaban with no trial?”

“Dumbledore didn’t know I was innocent.” Sirius defended. “Besides, what could he do?”

Lupin’s hands were gripping the side of his armchair tightly. “Why haven’t you stopped it?” He growled. “If you knew…”

“What exactly do you suppose I could do?” Narcissa asked him icily. “Dumbledore is his legal guardian. I wrote a letter to him at the beginning of the Summer, informing him of my suspicions, but he never responded. Lucius made some quiet inquiries at the Ministry, but not even the Malfoy name would win us a fight against the Chief Warlock, especially not about something of this nature. Dumbledore is the beloved headmaster while Lucius is a suspected Death Eater. I knew that if I attempted anything, Dumbledore would most likely legally prevent me from ever seeing Harry.”

Lupin’s eyes actually seemed to be glowing. “Dumbledore!”

“He wouldn’t do that.” Sirius denied again. “Why would Dumbledore let Harry be abused?”

Narcissa snorted delicately. “Grow up, Sirius.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “What happened to your traditionalist etiquette? Not so respectful now, are you?”

Narcissa clenched her teeth together in frustration, but then bowed her head. Sirius was right, her behaviour had been reprehensible and her mother would have cursed her for it. She could only hope that her brief time of disrespect had been enough to make Sirius think.

“My apologies, my lord. I beg forgiveness for my disrespect.”

“Are you kidding me, Sirius?” Lupin growled. “You just found out that Harry has been abused and you’re arguing with your cousin? Your cousin who actually tried to save him?”

“Oh stop it, Cissy.” Sirius sounded weary. “You know I don’t give a stuff about that rubbish.”

“Which is a pity, my lord.” Narcissa told him, her tone perfectly respectful. “The political power you could wield if you put your mind to it could change our world. It could even prevent children such as Harry from suffering at the hands of their families.”

“So I should give in?” Sirius challenged. “Act like a bloody traditionalist so that I can make the world less traditional?”

Narcissa closed her eyes for a moment in frustration. “I was not referring to making the world less traditional, my lord.”

“Of course you weren’t.” Sirius muttered.

“I was referring to more important issues.” Narcissa continued. “Such as protecting children and stopping the Dark Lord.”

Sirius and Lupin both stared at her. “You-Know-Who is gone, Cissy.”

Narcissa shook her head. “He’s coming back. There are more important things to argue about than traditionalism.”

Sirius looked horrified. “But he can’t come back, he’s dead!”

“The dark marks are darkening.” Narcissa told them. “If he were dead, they would be gone. Beyond that, Harry appears to be having visions involving him.”

Both men were silent for a few seconds.

Then Sirius sighed wearily. “Do you have any good news?”

“Lucius and I have been able to show Harry’s memories of the vision to Lady Bones.” Narcissa told him. “She has been able to confirm their authenticity as well as identify Peter Pettigrew.”

“How is that good news?” Sirius asked incredulously.

Narcissa ignored him. “Besides which, I would hope that my assurance that neither myself nor my husband support the Dark Lord’s agenda was good news, my lord.”

Sirius grimaced. “I guess.”

“My lord,” Narcissa started, ignoring Sirius’s scowl at the title. “May I request that you and Mr. Lupin swear on your magic to keep the secret of Lucius and my loyalties? If the Dark Lord or Dumbledore were to discover the truth…”

“Good point.” Sirius acknowledged. “About You-Know-Who, I mean. You should definitely tell Dumbledore.”

“No, thank you.” Narcissa told him, inwardly wincing when her tone came out slightly too sharp to be considered respectful. “I have seen how that man treats his allies.”

Sirius scowled. “Fine. I, Sirius Orion Black, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, swear on my life and my magic that I shall not, in any way, communicate the loyalties of Narcissa Malfoy, daughter of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, Lady of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, and Lucius Malfoy, Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, to anyone. So mote it be.”

Narcissa nodded in thanks and then listened as Lupin made a similar vow. “Thank you, my lord, Mr. Lupin. May I also suggest that you be cautious in regards to what you put in your letters to Harry? There is always the risk that letters will be intercepted.”

Sirius nodded with a grimace.

Narcissa stood up gracefully and smoothed down her robes. “My lord, with your permission, I will take my leave.”

Sirius nodded. “Thanks, Cissy, for coming. I appreciate it.”

Narcissa stared at him in shock, before quickly hiding it beneath her usual blank expression. “Of course, my lord. Harry has become very precious to my family.”

“Yeah,” Sirius still didn’t seem to know to deal with that. “Well, thanks.”

Narcissa curtsied. “Merry part, Lord Black, Mr. Lupin.”

“Merry part.”

 


	24. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has been betaed by my Dad. A few weeks ago he decided that he wanted to read this story, to see what my sisters and I had been talking about, and then (because he has always been the one who edited my highschool and uni assignments) started editing as he read. How cool is that?

_‘Dear Harry,_

_I had a visit from our cousin today and I want to tell you how sorry I am that my letters have made you uncomfortable. That was never my intention. I don’t want you to ever doubt that I love you. I loved you when you were a baby, so small and helpless, and I love you now. I will never hate you – not matter what!_

_After our cousin left, Remus and I talked a bit about the pranks that we, along with your dad, played on people when we were in school. Remus helped me see that sometimes we might have gone too far. The thing is that if I imagine someone doing to you what we did to Snape, it makes me angry enough to curse someone. I want you to know that we never intended to be bullies, but then I guess not many bullies do. I promise that I’m going to try to be better._

_You know how I’m staying at the Interlaken Magical Wellness Retreat? Well, part of that includes being treated by Mind Healers. I hated it at first, actually, I still hate it now, but I have to admit that it is really helping. I was twenty two when I was thrown into Azkaban and mostly my time there seems like one big nightmare. Remus told me that in many ways I’m still the twenty two year old who got thrown in there in the first place – and I don’t think he means that as a good thing. What I’m trying to say, Harry, is that whenever I sound like an immature prat (Remus’ words, not mine) it’s probably because I am. But I’m doing my best to grow up for you, Harry. I can’t wait to get to see you– I’m doing everything I can to make sure that you can come and live with me this summer._

_I promise you that I will let you see all your friends, even our cousins, and as I said before, I won’t hate you – no matter what!_

_Your godfather,_

_Sirius.’_

Harry stared at the end of the letter in surprise. What in Merlin’s name had Cousin Narcissa said to Sirius? It took another two readings of the letter for Harry to truly believe his eyes and even then, it seemed almost too good to be true.

Not only did Sirius want Harry to live with him that summer, which meant no more Dursleys, but he was going to let Harry see Draco, Cousin Narcissa and Lord Malfoy. And on top of that, if Harry read between the lines, it almost seemed as though Cousin Narcissa had told Sirius about his magic being dark and Sirius had promised that he didn’t hate him. It was such a relief!

The letter arrived on a Thursday morning so, as well as showing it to Draco and Luna at lunchtime, Harry told Neville and Takashi about it when they met for their wandless magic practise.

“So you will be living with him this summer then?” Neville asked curiously.

“Hopefully.” Harry grinned. “Sirius says he’s working on it, but I don’t know what that means.”

“I suspect that he needs to get permission to take over your guardianship.” Takashi told them. “He’ll need to prove that he’s recovered from Azkaban and can look after you.”

Harry nodded in understanding. “He says he’s getting heaps better.”

“That’s great.” Neville smiled.

“Anyway,” Harry stretched out his neck. “How about I watch you guys first?”

“Are you sure?” Neville asked in concern. “You almost always watch first.”

“I honestly don’t mind.” Harry assured him. “It gives me an opportunity to do some exercises.”

“Okay then,” Neville nodded. “Thanks.”

“Make sure you wake me this time.” Takashi told them firmly. “I want to take a watch too.”

“But…”

“I’m serious.” Takashi interrupted.

“Alright.” Harry sighed. “I promise.”

Neville and Takashi adjusted their positions and then shut their eyes, while Harry rolled onto his back and began doing sit-ups – being careful to keep his eyes focussed on the twigs in front of the two wizards mediating. It was his job to let them know when they had managed to levitate their twigs and he didn’t want to miss anything.

It took Neville all of fifteen seconds to begin floating his twig, he let if hover there for a few seconds and then slowly lowered it, fifteen seconds later the twig was floating again. Takashi’s twig was stationary, as it always was, and Harry felt a twinge of sympathy for the older boy. Takashi didn’t seem to mind the fact that he hadn’t managed to float the twig yet, putting it down to the fact that Harry and Neville’s magic was apparently stronger than his, but Harry still felt bad for him.

After a while, Neville’s twig dropped and he opened his eyes. “Bother.”

“I can’t levitate it when I’m not meditating either.” Harry commiserated. “Maybe we’re doing it wrong.”

 “Have you had another look through the book?” Neville asked.

“Yes,” Harry nodded. “It says that we should eventually be able to slowly pull ourselves out of our mediation while keeping the twig afloat.”

“So I guess we keep trying.” Neville sighed. “Do you want a go now?”

“You only had fifteen minutes.” Harry told him.

“I’ll go again after you.” Neville explained.

Harry straightened his back and crossed his legs. “Alright, thanks.”

He shut his eyes and within three breaths had dropped into his meditation. Then he focussed his attention on having his magic levitate the stick. He could feel his success immediately and so, focussing hard on keeping the stick in the air, he slowly pulled himself out of his meditation. The stick dropped.

“Damn!”

“You managed to float the stick in five seconds!” Neville told him with a grin. “That’s three seconds better than your time last week!”

“You were fifteen seconds.” Harry told him. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you before.”

“Wow! Fifteen?” Neville’s eyes widened. “That’s five seconds better than last week.”

“Our practise is definitely paying off.” Harry grinned, before shutting his eyes again. He was going to get this!

Ten minutes, and seventeen failures, later, Harry was fed up with the entire exercise. He felt as though he was stuck, but the book didn’t give any hints as to how he was supposed to get to the next step.

Harry gritted his teeth, closed his eyes, and then relaxed back into his meditation. This time, before floating the stick he studied his magic, trying to figure out what he was supposed to do differently. When nothing came to him, he focussed on the twig again and levitated it.

Then he paused to think. Normally, he would focus on levitating the twig while pulling out of his meditation. Maybe he needed to concentrate more on his magic than on the stick.

He focussed on his magic and how it felt as it levitated the twig and then firmly ordered it continue doing as it was doing. With that in mind, he slowly pulled himself out of his meditation and opened his eyes – only to see the twig floating a few inches in front of him.

“I did it!” He exclaimed as the twig dropped. “Nev, did you see that? I did it!”

“That’s amazing!” Neville beamed. “How did you do it?”

“Well, normally I focus on the stick,” Harry started.

“Me too.” Neville nodded.

“Right, well, this time I focussed on my magic.” Harry explained. “I told it to keep levitating the stick and it did as it was told!”

“Brilliant!” Neville grinned. “Do it again!”

Harry closed his eyes and, once he was meditating, floated the stick again, then he repeated what he had the time before and grinned when he opened his eyes to see a floating twig. He kept his focus on his magic and slowly lowered the stick like he did when he was meditating.

“Wow!” Neville breathed. “You’re amazing!”

Harry grinned at him. “Now it’s your turn.”

Neville nodded determinedly. “Alright. So you just focussed on your magic?”

“Yes,” Harry agreed. “Concentrate on what your magic is doing when it levitates the stick and then order it to keep doing that and focus on it continuing.”

“Okay.” Neville closed his eyes and Harry watched as his twig floated into the air.

“Come on, Nev.” Harry whispered quietly, before wincing when Neville’s twig dropped. “Try again.” He ordered as his friend opened his eyes.

It took Neville three more tries, but eventually he got it. “I did it!” He whooped. “I did it! Take that, Ron Weasley!”

Harry grinned in amusement. “He still giving you trouble?”

Neville shrugged. “He thinks I’m completely incompetent. Except for when it comes to Herbology, then he tries to cheat off me.”

Takashi opened his eyes. “Is it my turn to watch? I heard a noise.”

Neville winced. “Sorry, I was just really excited.”

“What happened?” Takashi asked.

“We both managed step two.” Harry answered with a grin.

“Congratulations.” Takashi bowed solemnly from his seated position. “That is a great achievement.”

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. “Now all we need to do is figure out how to levitate the twig without meditating at all.”

23-23-23

Harry continued to practise his wandless magic every morning and, by the end of the next week, was able to not only lower the twig when he wasn’t mediating, but levitate it again as well. He still hadn’t figured out how to do it without meditating first, but he was confident that it would come with practise.

When the weekend came, Harry was tempted to spend both days in bed practicing, but he knew that Jeremy would kill him if he missed Quidditch practise. Well, maybe not kill him, but definitely make his life miserable for a while. It seemed that the more games they won, the more fanatical their Quidditch captain got about practises. So far Ravenclaw had won both of their Quidditch matches, and, so long as they beat Slytherin in their final match, they had a good chance of winning the Quidditch Cup for the first time in decades.

Thankfully though, Jeremy had yet to reach the level of fanaticism that the Gryffindor Captain had. Harry was already having enough trouble keeping up with his homework without having practises every day too. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. He was having trouble completing all his homework by Saturday night, but he was unwilling to give up his homework free Sundays. He liked studying, but he thought he would probably go insane if he never got a break from it.

In the past, Harry had spent his Saturday afternoons working on his homework with his Ravenclaw dorm mates but, now that they had decided to cut off their friendship, Harry had now started studying with the second year Slytherins.

It was nice to have more time to spend with them and, while Harry still missed his Ravenclaw friends, he often found himself thinking about how much easier the Slytherins were to hang out with. Admittedly they weren’t all easier, Pansy still seemed to hate him for some reason, but the more time he spent with the Slytherins the less he missed his Ravenclaw friends.

Some nights, as he lie in bed attempting to sleep, Harry wondered what he would do if Terry, Michael and Rodney decided that they wanted to friends with him again. After all, they had assured him that their ignoring him would be temporary. But that had been a month ago and Anthony wasn’t showing any signs of getting over his hatred of Harry. Harry wasn’t sure that he even wanted to be friends with them again. Sure, they were some of his first friends and he had really liked them, but they had betrayed him for stupid reasons. Harry wasn’t sure what was worse, their betrayal, or the fact that they had seemed to think that he would just be willing to forgive them afterwards and act like nothing happened.

On the first Wednesday of March, Terry handed Harry a roll of parchment as he passed him in the common room, but didn’t stop to talk. Harry frowned after him, annoyed at his former friend’s lack of courtesy. Couldn’t he have at least explained what the parchment was? Or said merry meet, or something?

Harry unrolled the parchment as he left the common room and saw that it was the first bimonthly report for the chocolate business he had invested in. When Bakrog had originally insisted on the reports, Harry had been a bit confused. After all, why did it matter? It wasn’t as though he didn’t actually sleep in the same room as the other people involved in the business. Now though, he was relieved. Sure he’d seen people in the common buying chocolates from his dorm mates, but other than that he hadn’t actually heard anything about how the business was going.

He skimmed through the report quickly and, despite how angry he was at his dorm mates, he couldn’t help but be pleased at how well their chocolate business seemed to be going. According to the report, they had sold twice as many chocolates as they expected too. Apparently they had even had students from other houses buying some. It wasn’t just good news for his dorm mates since Harry would be getting forty percent of the profits and, while he knew that the amount he would be getting was a pittance compared to the amount of money that the Potter House’s other investments made him every month, there was something thrilling about getting money that he had actually done something to earn. Even if all he had done was agree to invest money.

23-23-23

“No.” Draco refused firmly as he moved his knight out of the way of Harry’s bishop.

“Come on, Draco.” Pansy begged, moving closer and grasping hold of Draco’s arm. “It will be fun.”

Harry watched in amusement as Draco tried, unsuccessfully, to extract his arm from Pansy’s grasp.

“I said no, Pansy!”

“But I’m bored.” Pansy whined.

“Then go for a walk on your on your own.” Draco told her unsympathetically. “I’m busy.”

Pansy pouted. “But, Drake…”

“My name is Draco.” Draco interrupted her frostily.

“Fine.” Pansy sounded hurt. “Please, _Draco,_ come for a walk with me.”

“No.” Draco refused again. “I’m playing chess with Harry.”

“So?” Pansy asked. “He’s terrible, you’ll beat him in five minutes.”

Harry flushed in embarrassment as he turned his attention back to the board. He knew he wasn’t exactly up to Draco’s level, but he was getting better.

“Pansy, dear?” Daphne’s voice called from where she was lounging on the grass a few feet away. “You are terribly boorish today.”

Pansy’s face flushed a dark red colour and she turned to scowl at Daphne. “Daphne!”

Draco used her distraction to extract his arm and then straightened the sleeve of his robe. Harry grinned at him, his grin only growing wider when Draco noticed and sneered at him.

“Just you wait.” Draco told him in an undertone. “One day it’ll be you.”

Harry grimaced at the thought and turned his attention back to the board.

“See, not so funny now is it?”

“What’s funny, Draco?” Pansy asked in a simper.

“Nothing.” Draco answered with a slightly pinched expression.

Harry moved his rook and then looked over to where Luna, Theo, Daphne, Blaise, Tracey, Greg and Vincent were all sitting. Theo was watching Draco and Pansy with an amused expression, something that Harry could completely relate to. He hoped that he never had to deal with someone like Pansy trying to get his attention. He didn’t think he would be nearly as patient as Draco was, partly because he didn’t understand why Draco was so patient with her.

Why would Draco put up with Pansy’s annoying behaviour? Harry suddenly remembered one of the conversations he’d had with Cousin Narcissa over the summer and inwardly blanched. What if Draco was betrothed to Pansy? That would explain her obsession with him and his reason for being so patient. Surely Cousin Narcissa and Lord Malfoy wouldn’t force Draco to marry her though.

It wasn’t until later, when they were alone in Hoth, (Luna had said something completely nonsensical and had wandered off) that Harry brought up the subject.

“Draco?”

“Hmm?” Draco asked absently, his attention focussed on his book.

“Do you mind if I ask you a potentially rude question?”

There was a long pause before Draco put his book down and turned to Harry. “What sort of question?”

“Regarding betrothal contracts.” Harry answered cautiously.

Draco frowned. “Why would you want to ask me about them?”

“Do you mind?” Harry persisted.

“No.”

“Are you betrothed to anyone?” Harry asked.

“Yes.” Draco answered.

Harry grimaced. “Please tell me it’s not Pansy.”

“Definitely not!” Draco’s tone was emphatic. “Ewww! Why would you even ask me that?”

“I don’t understand why you put up with her.” Harry explained. “She’s awful, but you’re so nice to her.”

“Nice?!” Draco sounded horrified. “I’m not nice to her.”

“Well, maybe not nice.” Harry acknowledged. “But you’re so patient with her. You don’t snap at her or anything.”

“Because that would be impolite.” Draco told him.

“So you just have to put up with her being boorish?” Harry asked.

Draco’s mouth twitched. “Boorish?”

“Daphne used it today.” Harry explained. “I think it fits her well.”

Draco smirked. “It does.”

“So would your mother really want you to put up with her?” Harry asked. “Surely you’re allowed to draw the line somewhere.”

Draco looked relieved. “Do you think so? She’s driving me mad!”

Harry had no idea why Draco was asking him – Draco had been his etiquette tutor, not the other way around. “Why don’t you ask your mother?”

“I will.” Draco nodded firmly. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome.” Harry told him. “So if you’re not betrothed to Pansy, who are you betrothed to?”

“Astoria Greengrass.” Draco answered, his tone glum.

“Daphne’s younger sister?” Harry asked in surprise.

“Yes.”

“Why not Daphne?”

“Daphne was betrothed to Lord Odgen’s oldest grandson.” Draco explained. “But he died from Dragon Pox four years ago.”

“That’s awful.” Harry gasped.

“Not really.” Draco answered. “Eugene was a bully. He was five years older than us and Daphne was terrified of him.”

“Oh.”

“Do you have a betrothal contract?” Draco asked curiously.

“I don’t think so.” Harry answered. “Your mother didn’t think so, but she said I should ask Sirius.”

“Lucky you.” Draco commented.

Harry studied him. “Do you not like Astoria?”

“She’s alright.” Draco told him. “She’s just so boring and silly.”

“She’s eleven.” Harry pointed out. “I’m sure she’ll be better when she’s older.”

“I hope so.” Draco sighed.

The dinner bell rang a few seconds later and Harry stood up with a sigh. “I can’t believe the weekend is almost over.”

“I know.” Draco agreed as they began walking to the Great Hall. “That’s the problem with weekends with Quidditch matches. They just go so quickly.”

“It was a good game though.” Harry commented. “You were amazing. In fact I think that you were one of the only reasons your team won.”

“Thank you.” Draco preened.

“Higgs is awful though.” Harry continued. “Surely there’s a better seeker somewhere in Slytherin.”

“You would think.” Draco groaned.

“At least the Gryffindor seeker is just as bad.” Harry pointed out.

“That’s not going to help us next month though.”

“Well, no.” Harry smirked. “But then, I’m hardly disappointed about the idea of my team beating yours.”

“Only if you manage to catch the snitch.” Draco told him. “Our chasers are way better than yours.”

“At least your beaters aren’t as good as the Weasleys.” Harry said. “They were awful to play against.”

“You have to admit that it was a brilliant strategy though.” Draco pointed out.

“I know.” Harry sighed. “What are the chances of Flint ordering your beaters to do the same thing?”

“I’m not telling.” Draco smirked.

They split up when they reached the Great Hall and then headed for their individual tables. As Harry walked to where Luna was sitting he looked up at the Head Table and grinned when he saw Auror Tonks sitting there. Of all the aurors that they had teach them, she had definitely been the best. There was just something about the way she taught that made it even more exciting and interesting than DADA normally was.

“Merry meet, Luna.” Harry greeted as slid into the seat beside her. “Did you see the Auror Tonks is back?”

“Of course.” Luna beamed at him. “What do you think she will think of today’s prank? I think she’ll like it, Auror Moody might not though.”

Harry gave her a puzzled look and lowered his voice. “Luna, we haven’t planned a prank for today.”

“Of course you haven’t, silly.” Luna told him. “I didn’t mean us.”

Harry searched the hall quickly, looking for anything suspicious. “Is someone else going to pull a prank?”

Luna rolled her eyes. “That’s what I said.”

Harry found it hard to concentrate on eating when he knew that there could be a prank at any moment. For a moment he had felt a little worried that he, Draco and Luna might be the targets, but that was silly. Nobody knew that they were the Marauders’ Apprentices.

When dessert arrived, without any kind of prank having taken place, Harry turned to Luna. “When?”

“Soon.” Luna promised. “Any minute now.”

Harry selected a treacle tart from the dish in front of him and bit into it absently as he scanned the hall for anything suspicious. There was nothing, just hundreds of students talking amongst themselves and eating dessert.

He took another bite of his treacle tart, blinked, and then blinked again. Where had all the colours come from? It was if every single person in the hall had suddenly had their hair dyed a bright neon colour. There were pinks, greens, blues, reds, yellows, and more. There didn’t seem to be any pattern to it either, every house table had every colour.

The noise level increased drastically as everybody noticed and began exclaiming (some in excitement, some in horror) over the change.

Harry grinned, it was awesome and definitely livened the place up a bit. He hoped it lasted for a few days. He looked down the table and saw that Takashi’s hair was green. Jeremy had purple hair, Terry and Rodney had orange hair, Anthony’s hair was green too, and Michael’s hair was red. At the Slytherin table, Draco looked absolutely disgusted by his purple hair, while Daphne and Theo both had yellow hair.

Luna giggled. “You probably shouldn’t have chosen the treacle tart.”

“What?” Harry turned to look at her, taking in her neon yellow hair. “Why?”

“Your hair is pink.” Luna giggled again.

Harry tried to get a look at his hair, but it was too short. “Pink?”

“Hey look!” One of the students at the Hufflepuff table called loudly.

Harry turned around to see what they were pointing at and took in the writing on the wall.

_‘Dear Marauders’ Apprentices,_

_It’s on!_

_With love,_

_The Wizarding Wheezes’_

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and exchanged an excited grin with Draco. This was going to be absolutely smashing!

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your encouraging comments. I love them! They are so encouraging and I am delighted every time I see that one of them has arrived.


	25. Chapter 24

Harry, Draco and Luna spent the week following the ‘Wizarding Wheezes’ prank brainstorming ways that they could respond to the challenge. They were ninety nine percent certain that the ‘Wizarding Wheezes’ were actually the Weasley twins, but had no proof of the matter which meant that their responding prank would have to affect the entire school as well. And, as Luna had pointed out, if the Weasleys wanted to use an alias, they shouldn’t do anything that might break their cover.

By the end of the week they had decided on a potion from the Maruaders’ Grimoire that would have everyone singing their words. According to the book, the potion would last for twenty four hours so it would make classes exciting too.

The potion recipe looked ridiculously easy compared to the last two potions they had made, but in the end they decided wait a few weeks before making it. The Ravenclaw versus Slytherin Quidditch match was coming up, which meant a lot of time spent at Quidditch practise – particularly for Draco.

Jeremy had yet to add any extra practises for the Ravenclaw team and Harry really hoped that he didn’t. The Gryffindors’ last game was scheduled for a month after the Ravenclaw/Slytherin game and the Gryffindor team was already practising most days in preparation for it which, in addition to the Slytherin and Hufflepuffs teams practises, meant that they only times the Quidditch pitch was free was after dinner when Harry had Occlumency practise with Professor Snape.

Admittedly, even if Jeremy did decide to become just as fanatical about practises as Wood and Flint, Harry hardly needed to be present for them all. As the seeker he didn’t really have anything to do with the rest of practise, beside which – he knew he could probably beat Higgs to the snitch with his eyes closed. Which sounded horribly arrogant in his head, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t true.

The night before the Ravenclaw/Slytherin Quidditch game, Harry knocked on Snape’s office door at seven o’clock exactly. As usual, the door swung open on its own and Harry stepped into the room.

“Merry meet, Mr. Potter.” Snape bowed from where he was standing near the unlit fireplace.

“Merry meet, professor.” Harry nodded before moving to sit in his usual seat. As usual, he leaned back in the seat and sunk into his meditative state and, unlike when he practised his wandless magic, focussed on the muggle city he was building. He had been practising with the help of Professor Snape for three months now and he had built an entire city block around the library where the stored his thoughts and memories. The city block was still very flimsy and vulnerable, but it was definitely a start. The best thing was that the more Harry built, the easier it became. Now that the first city block had been built, Professor Snape had instructed him to spend time strengthening it all – after all, there was no point having a city if the first person who used legilimency against him could just tear it apart.

It was a slow process, frustratingly so, but Professor Snape had told him that Occlumency learnt this way was significantly more effective than when it was learnt the more common way which involved having someone use legilimency against him time and time again until his brain learnt how to protect itself.

Harry focused first on the library that held his memories and thoughts and slowly began to strengthen its walls the way that Snape had taught him to. Once he’d spent some time there, he moved onto some of the other buildings and the roads. He wanted his city to be as strong as it possibly could be.

“Mr. Potter.” Professor Snape’s voice eventually pulled him out of his meditation.

Harry opened his eyes and blinked at the light. “Has it already been an hour, sir?”

“An hour and a half.” Snape answered.

Harry shook his head in wonder. “It always goes so quickly. I only managed to strengthen about a third of the block. How many times do you think I’ll need to strengthen it?”

Snape moved closer. “It is impossible for me to know without using legilimency on you.”

“Can you check, sir?” Harry asked.

“Are you certain, Mr. Potter?” Snape asked.

“Yes.”

Snape pulled out his wand and moved to stand in front of Harry. “Legilimens.”

It wasn’t the first time Snape had used legilimency to test Harry’s progress, but it still felt as weird as it had the first time. The feeling was indescribable and, each time that Harry experienced it, he felt it a little more keenly. Almost as though his head was getting better at noticing when someone was looking around inside.

“Very impressive, Mr. Potter.” Snape said eventually. “I suspect that you will only need to strengthen each section three or four times.”

Harry was pleased. “So I’ll be able to start on the next bit of the city next week?”

“Most likely.” Snape agreed. “I would advise that you spend some more time creating defences in your library. Some locks on the doors, perhaps?”

“Couldn’t someone just cast the unlocking charm and get through?” Harry asked.

“So create locks that the unlocking charm will not work against.” Snape told him.

Harry spent the walk back to the Ravenclaw tower considering ways that he could defend his library. Maybe he could put a notice-me-not charm on it like he and Draco had put on the door into Hoth? Or perhaps even a parselmagic spell. The book on parselmagic that he had found in the Come and Go Room contained several different locking spells. One of which required a password, in parseltongue, to be unlocked. If he could lock his library using that spell, and hid the password inside the library, then it would be very hard for anyone to get inside.

23-23-23.

“It’s on you, Harry.” Jeremy told him seriously the next morning. “The Slytherin chasers are about as good as the Gryffindor ones, and the Gryffindors would have flattened us if you hadn’t caught the snitch. You’ll need to catch the snitch very early for us to have a chance.”

Harry stomach clenched nervously. “You know that we can’t win the Quidditch Cup, right?”

Jeremy sighed. “I know. Slytherin are way ahead of all of us in points, but we can at least win this game and be the first Ravenclaw team in decades to have won all three games.”

“Terry, you need to keep Malfoy out of the game.” Jeremy continued. “He scored at least half of their goals in their game against Hufflepuff, we need him distracted – keep on his tail.”

Harry smirked inwardly at that, both out of pride for his cousin and amusement at the idea that Terry would be able to stop him. He’s practised with both of them and knew that Draco would be able to fly rings around Terry.

“Alright, kids.” Jeremy grinned. “Let’s do this!”

In many ways the game was similar to the previous two games that Harry had played. Lee Jordan was commentating, the chasers were playing their own game between the two goal posts, and Harry slowly circled the pitch looking for the snitch. Higgs, the Slytherin seeker was also circling the pitch, though he was moving in the opposite direction as Harry.

Half an hour into the game, Harry could tell that Jeremy’s prediction had been correct. If they were going to win, it would be because Harry had caught the snitch. The Slytherin chasers were all but flying rings around the Ravenclaws and the score was 70-30.

Harry flew a few feet higher and continued studying the pitch intently. He might not be able to win the Quidditch Cup for his team, but he would do everything he could find the snitch in time and win the game.

It took Harry twenty five more minutes to spot the snitch hovering above Madam Hooch’s head, by which point the score was 160-50 to the Slytherins. Harry ignored the snitch for a moment, taking the time to ensure that Higgs hadn’t seen it, before swinging his broom around and taking chase. He flew quickly, but cautiously, the last thing he wanted to do was fly into Madam Hooch. The snitch waited until he was ten feet out, before darting away and making Harry follow it through the chasers’ game, darting around the players. Harry was less cautious now that there was no risk of flying into the referee and at one point was sure that he had very nearly knocked Terry off his broom, completely by accident. Harry tried not to feel too pleased.

When Harry eventually caught the snitch, uncontested since Higgs hadn’t managed to keep up, it was a bitter sweet moment. Yes, they had won the game, but at the same time they had just lost the Quidditch Cup. Even when you included the hundred bonus points that teams got for winning their games, Slytherin were still seventy points ahead of them. At least they had beaten Gryffindor and Hufflepuff. Well, they would unless Gryffindor got 350 points for their next game.

24-24-24

“Nice job catching the snitch.” Theo commented later that day.

“Thanks.” Harry nodded.

“Pity your chasers are so rubbish.” Draco added.

Harry shot him a dirty look.

Draco smirked and pulled out his Transfiguration textbook. “Don’t give me that look. You know that it’s true. The only reason your team won today was because you caught the snitch, same as when you played Gryffindor.”

Theo nodded. “The real problem for you is that most of the points you earn your team by catching the snitch barely make up for their inability to throw the quaffle through the hoop, so you don’t win by much.”

“At least I manage to catch the snitch,” Harry replied defensively. “Unlike your seeker. He’s rubbish!”

“Can you imagine what it would be like to play in a team filled with people who are as good as us?” Draco asked. “You, me, Flint…”

“The Weasley twins.” Harry put in.

Draco grimaced but didn’t disagree.

“You’d want Wood as keeper.” Theo commented.

“And Johnson too.” Harry added. “She’s the best seeker in the Gryffindor team.”

“It would be smashing.” Draco grinned. “I could play without worrying about the fact that I had to get enough goals to make sure we’d still win when Higgs didn’t catch the snitch, you could catch the snitch without worrying that your team had gotten themselves far enough behind that it wouldn’t matter…”

“Basically what you’re saying is that you want to try out for the Under Seventeen squad.” Theo interrupted.

“Yes.” Draco grinned. “It would be great.”

“We’re only twelve.” Harry reminded him.

“If we’re good enough then we’re old enough.” Draco replied. “I’ll ask father what he thinks.”

“Merry meet.” Daphne, Pansy, Tracy and Blaise stopped in front of them and bowed.

“Merry meet.” Harry and Draco both nodded in acknowledgement as their friends sat around them.

Harry watched in amusement as Pansy sat down next to Draco, close enough that their legs were touching, making Draco shift away. Apparently Cousin Narcissa had replied to Draco’s letter about the situation with permission for Draco to do whatever he needed to get it through Pansy’s head that he wasn’t interested. Unfortunately for Draco, it seemed not matter what he did Pansy refused to take the hint.

“Nice catch today, Harry.” Daphne smiled at him.

Harry smiled back. “Thanks.”

“I’m sure Lord Black will be impressed.” Daphne continued.

“How is Lord Black?” Theo asked with interest.

“Alright.” Harry answered him. “I haven’t seen him since that time at Saint Mungo’s, but we write to each other about once a week.”

“My father says that he’s a blood traitor.” Pansy said with a sneer.

Harry turned towards her in shock.

“He’s the Lord of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black.” Daphne responded icily. “I hardly think he could be a blood traitor.”

Pansy sniffed in annoyance and put her nose in the air. “He was a Gryffindor!”

“So was my father.” Harry told her stiffly.

“As was Lord Gryffindor.” Theo grinned.

“What’s a person’s Hogwarts House got to do with their blood traitor status?” Harry asked.

Pansy looked to Draco as though for help. “Gryffindors are all bumbling and uncouth muggle lovers!”

“Neville Longbottom is a Gryffindor.” Harry reminded her.

“Exactly!” Pansy’s upper lip curled in disgust. “He’s pathetic.”

Harry gritted his teeth and stiffened his shoulders, trying to remember everything Cousin Narcissa had taught him about how to respond to situations where he, or his allies, were insulted.

“He’s my friend.” Harry told her coldly. “And the Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom. Who do you think you are to pass judgement on him?”

Pansy’s face reddened. “I’m a Slytherin!”

“So?” Harry asked her, curling his upper lip scornfully. “That doesn’t make you any less of a peasant. Who are you to judge the Heir of Longbottom? Let alone Lord Black?”

Pansy’s face was red with fury. “How dare you?!”

“Pansy, dear?” Daphne said suddenly. “Do be quiet. You are making a fool of yourself.”

“Does anyone else think that Harry bears a scary resemblance to Lord Malfoy when he’s angry?” Theo asked after a few awkward seconds had passed.

“I know.” Draco agreed looking strangely proud. “And he’s only had one year of tutoring. Can you imagine how terrifying he would be if he’d actually grown up in our world?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m nothing like Lord Malfoy.”

“Harry, you are exactly like Lord Malfoy.” Theo returned. “You’re more like him than Draco is.”

Harry looked to Draco expecting him to deny it. When his cousin didn’t say anything, Harry’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”

“Only when you’re angry.” Draco said defensively.

“You should get angry more often.” Theo commented. “Just not at us.”

Harry grinned. “Somehow I doubt other people would have the same enthusiasm for my anger that you do. My dorm mates for example.”

Draco sneered. “They’d deserve it.”

“Are they still being prats?” Theo asked in surprise. “I thought they would have gotten over it by now.”

“Apparently I am everything that Anthony stands against.” Harry told them. “His family is aggressively non-traditional, and despite the fact that Terry and Michael are traditionalists they have decided to pick his side over mine to avoid conflict.”

“You know what really annoys me?” Theo asked rhetorically. “That it’s acceptable for him to be a prat about being non-traditional. If we treated non-traditional people the way they treat us everyone would hate us for it.”

Harry raised an eyebrow sceptically. “Draco does treat everyone like that.”

“I do not!” Draco protested.

“Name one non-traditional person that you willingly talk to.” Harry challenged.

Draco frowned in thought.

“Exactly!” Harry smirked.

“Yes, well, Draco’s Draco.” Theo said. “The rest of us aren’t like that.”

“And not all the non-traditional people are like Anthony.” Harry pointed out. “Rodney Johnson’s not.”

Theo looked sceptically. “He’s been a prat to you. Besides, he glares at us all the time. All your dorm mates do.”

“That’s because of their prejudice against dark magic.” Harry explained.

“But we don’t all have dark magic!” Theo argued. “I don’t and neither does Tracey.”

“No, but you’re Slytherin.” Daphne commented coldly. “That’s enough for them.”

 “How is your sister, Daphne?” Harry asked in what he knew was a very unsubtle attempt to change the topic of conversation.

Daphne smiled softly. “She is well thank you. She is enjoying Hogwarts a lot and hardly seems to be homesick at all.”

“You being here probably helps.” Theo commented.

“Most likely.” Daphne agreed. “I think mother and father are missing her more than she is missing them. She’s the youngest and mother says the house it very quiet with all of us gone.”

Harry watched Daphne as she answered and couldn’t help but notice how pretty she was. She was definitely the prettiest girl in their year.

“What’s Thomas doing?” Draco asked curiously.

“Still travelling around Europe.” Daphne answered. “Father’s starting to despair of him, I think. In his last letter he said something about watching muggle carriages race.”

Harry grinned in amusement. “I think you probably mean motor cars.”

“What are they?” Theo asked.

“They are like carriages, except they have a motor that makes them move without needing any magic, or any kind of animal to pull them along.” Draco answered.

All the Slytherins turned to stare at him.

“Draco?” Theo questioned. “Is there something you need to tell us? How in Merlin’s name do you know that?”

“Harry and I rode in one over the summer.” Draco answered haughtily.

“Seriously?” Theo leaned forward. “You rode in a muggle carriage?”

Pansy sniffed disapprovingly. “This is what happens when you spend time with blood traitors.”

Harry narrowed his eyes at her. “Are you accusing me of being a blood traitor, Parkinson?”

“If the wand matches.” Pansy replied disdainfully.

“And what exactly is it about me that makes me a blood traitor?” Harry asked her.

“You’re a half-blood!” Pansy snapped.

“From which you could possibly make the argument that my father was a blood traitor.” Harry replied. “But my parents’ choices don’t make me one.”

“You live with muggles!”

“Not voluntarily.” Harry responded.

“You, you…”

“It’s ironic really,” Harry interrupted her, his tone deceptively even. “You accuse me of being a blood traitor, but I think the title fits you much more than it fits me.”

Pansy opened her mouth to speak, but Harry continued without giving her time to say anything.

“What exactly is it that you thinks makes someone a blood traitor?” Harry asked her. “Because when you sit here and disrespect me you are acting no better than a Weasley would. At least they admit that they don’t believe in the traditions, you claim to be traditional and then turn around and ignore them when they suit you.”

Harry looked around the circle and took in the rest of the Slytherins’ blank expressions. “I don’t know why Draco, Theo and Daphne haven’t put a stop to your uncouth behaviour, but I won’t put up with it any longer.”

Pansy sneered at him. “And what exactly do you think you can do about it, Harry?”

“It’s Potter to you.” Harry snapped. “Only my friends get to refer to me informally, and I don’t want to be friends with a two-faced blood traitor like you.”

“You think you’re so high and mighty, Potter!” Pansy spat. “But you’re just a half-blooded blood traitor playing at being noble.”

Harry raised an eyebrow icily. “Oh, I’m not playing, Miss Parkinson. I know exactly what I’m doing.” He stood up. “Merry meet. Draco, I will see you this evening.”

Stalking away, Harry tried to figure out what he was supposed to do now. He knew he’d done the right thing in standing up to her. Cousin Narcissa had taught him that it was important for him to stand up for himself when he was insulted – if he let people insult him without there being consequences then no one would respect him. The problem was, that he had no idea what sort of punishment he could, or should, give Pansy for her insults.

He should probably write to Cousin Narcissa and ask.                                                                             

24-24-24

_‘Dear Cousin Narcissa,_

_I hope that you and Lord Malfoy are well. I hope that you don’t mind, but I am writing to ask you for some advice regarding something happened between myself and Pansy Parkinson._

_Earlier this afternoon I was talking to Draco, Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini. During the conversation Pansy said that her father thinks that Sirius is a blood traitor and, when I stood up for him, she insulted Neville Longbottom as well. Later in the conversation, Pansy called me a “half-blooded blood traitor playing at being noble”. I told her off, just like you said I should, but I don’t know what to do now. Should I leave it alone now? Or is there something else I should do._

_Kind Regards,_

_Your Cousin,_

_Harry Potter_

_Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black_

_Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter’_

14-14-14

It always took a few days for Cousin Narcissa to reply to his letters and Harry spent the time trying to figure out what do about Parkinson. He knew he couldn’t just forgive her, and he didn’t want to anyway. She had insulted Sirius, Neville, as well as himself, and Harry wanted to make sure she never did it again.

He’d asked Draco and Luna, but they hadn’t been any help. Draco’s go to option for punishing people was calling his father, and Luna had as little experience with these sorts of situations as Harry did. It left Harry with a problem though, how was he supposed to treat Parkinson while he waited for Cousin Narcissa’s letter? Should he ignore her? Or should he try and treat her like Lord Malfoy treated people he didn’t like – with cool distain.

In the end though his plan wasn’t really needed since Parkinson didn’t try to talk to him and instead settled for sneering at him from a distance. Draco seemed to find the whole thing more amusing than anything, though, when Harry questioned him about it, he explained that his amusement was in regards to Parkinson’s stupidity. Harry thought that Draco was just hoping that the situation would somehow result in Pansy stopping her annoying habit of stalking him.

When Cousin Narcissa’s letter finally arrived on Monday morning, Harry opened it immediately.

_‘Dear Harry,_

_Thank you for your letter. Lucius and I are both very well_

_I admit to being surprised to read about your unfortunate interaction with Miss Parkinson. Draconus had mentioned that her manners left much to be desired, but I had no idea that she was quite so uncouth. The House of Parkinson, whilst faithfully continuing to uphold our traditions, has never been haut ton, however, in the past they have tended to demonstrate more refined manners than Miss Parkinson seems to have. I applaud you for having defended your family, self and allies._

_In regards to what your response ought to be, there are unfortunately limited options particularly in regards to your young age. Your first action should be to explain what happened to your godfather. It may be that he is willing to take care of the matter for you. If he is not then I suggest that you write to the Head of the House of Parkinson, who in this case is Miss Parkinson’s Great Grandfather, and give an account of her actions. You should also write to your Gringotts’ Account Manager and ask for information in regards to any business ventures that the House of Potter has with the House of Parkinson. If Mr. Parkinson responds to your letter as he ought, with apologies and a promise of discipline, then you may consider the matter closed. If he does not respond as he ought then you will want to have that information on hand in order to properly explain the possible consequences of the insult to your House and allies. You will not be able to follow through on any threats you might make until you are fifteen of course, but three years will not seem very long from Mr. Parkinson’s perspective._

_Please give my love to Draconus,_

_Your Cousin,_

_Lady Narcissa Malfoy_

_The Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy’_


	26. Chapter 25

Sirius couldn’t help but grin when he saw Harry’s owl flying towards him – Harry’s letters were the best part of his week. If possible, the letters had become even more enjoyable now that Harry wasn’t holding back on him (he hadn’t even realised how much his godson was holding back, until Harry started telling him the truth about things. It was still weird to read about Harry’s friendship with Narcissa’s son though. Some days, Sirius wondered what James and Lily would think of their son’s best friend being a Death Eater’s son. Except, according to Narcissa, Lucius wasn’t actually a Death Eater and, as much as Sirius hated to admit it, he knew that she hadn’t been lying.

Sirius retrieved the letter from the owl and quickly opened the envelope. He was pretty sure that Harry had had a Quidditch game on Saturday, maybe the letter would contain details about it. Sirius couldn’t wait to see him fly one day!

_‘Dear Sirius,_

_I hope that you don’t mind that I’m sending you this letter. I wasn’t planning to, because I know that you don’t like traditionalism, but when I wrote to Cousin Narcissa she said that I should tell you about it too.’_

Sirius closed his eyes and, using the techniques that his Mind Healer had taught him, forced away the sudden flare jealously. Of course Harry was still writing to Narcissa about things. Not only had Harry known her for longer, but she had tutored him over the summer. He shouldn’t be jealous of Narcissa, he should be thankful that she had instructed Harry to write to him as well.

‘ _I know you’re not traditional, but I sort of am – I hope that’s okay.’_

Sirius gritted his teeth. He hated the way Harry’s letters often sounded anxious – as though his godson was afraid that Sirius wouldn’t like something he had said and would get mad. And he especially hated the way that his letters to his godson had most likely exacerbated the boy’s fear. Narcissa’s first visit had been a real wake-up call for him. He was 33 years old and, to use Remus’ words, needed to grow past his immature teenage discriminations.

‘ _This afternoon, after the Quidditch match (which we won – we won’t win the Cup though, Slytherin are way ahead of us in points), I was hanging out with some of my friends. Draco was there, as well as Theodore Nott, Daphne Greengrass, Pansy Parkinson, Tracey Davis, and Blaise Zabini.’_

Sirius reread the list, he’d heard a lot about Draco of course, but Theodore Nott? The House of Nott was notoriously dark, as were the Houses of Greengrass and Parkinson. What was Harry doing spending time with dark witches and wizards?

Sirius took a deep breath and then another. His prejudice was showing again. He needed to remember that his godson’s magic was dark. There was nothing wrong with dark magic, it was just another kind of magic. He took another deep breath. He refused to stay the ‘prejudice git’ (Remus’ words, not his) he had been at Hogwarts.

_‘And at one point Pansy said that her father thinks that you are a blood traitor. Which I know probably won’t bother you, since you don’t like traditionalism, but it was really rude of her. When I defended you she then insulted Neville Longbottom (the Heir of the Ancient and Noble House of Longbottom) and then later called me a “half-blooded blood traitor playing at being noble”._

_‘I originally wrote to Cousin Narcissa to ask her advice on what my response should be (I have included a copy of her letter for you to read) and she thought that you might be willing to take care of it. It’s alright if you’re not, I know that you’re not traditional and that you don’t really like traditional people. I wouldn’t have asked, except Cousin Narcissa told me I should._

_Your godson,_

_Harry’_

Sirius ran a hand through his hair. Bollocks. This was exactly what being a prejudice git had got him – a traditional godson who thought (not wrongly) that he didn’t like traditional people. He was tempted to blame the whole thing on Narcissa. None of this would have been a problem if he hadn’t had a traditional godson, and he very much doubted that his godson would have been traditional if not for the Malfoys’ influence. Still, pointing the blame was not a healthy, or effective, coping strategy (according to his Mind Healer) and it certainly wouldn’t help him deal with the situation.

It didn’t really surprise him that Perseus Parkinson thought he was a blood traitor. Perseus had been a year ahead of him at Hogwarts and had been a traditionalist git. Not that there was anything wrong with being a traditionalist, Sirius reminded himself quickly, but there was something wrong with being a git. It did surprise him that Perseus’ daughter had such poor manners. Perseus might have been a git to Remus and Peter, but he’d never been anything besides respectful to him and James.

Not that he and James would have done anything if he had been disrespectful. Despite the fact that both their sets of parents were traditional, they had both jumped on Dumbledore’s non-traditional bandwagon in their first year at Hogwarts and never looked back.  His parents’ had been horrified and James’ parents hadn’t been much happier about the situation (though they had been a lot less violent in their displeasure). How ironic that James’ son would be just as traditional as his grandparents had been.

Sirius looked back to the letter. Well, like it or not, he was the godfather (and hopefully soon guardian) of a traditionalist and he needed to live up to his responsibilities. Which, right now, meant writing a scathing letter to Perseus Parkinson. Good thing he still remembered all his mothers, and Cousin Dorea’s, lessons on traditional protocol.

25-25-25

The week after Pansy insulted him was, in Harry’s opinion, bizarre. He’d sort of expected the Slytherins to take her side and ignore him, but instead they were snubbing Pansy. It was completely unexpected and wonderful. Harry didn’t think he had ever had friends who had picked his side before.

When Harry received a letter from Sirius informing him that he had written to Pansy’s father, Harry considered pinching himself to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. He didn’t think he had ever had so many people take his side. Not only that, but Sirius had written to Mr. Parkinson even though he hated traditionalism. It was amazing!

Three days later, when he was working on his homework near the lake with Draco, Luna, Theo and Daphne, Pansy approached him and curtsied.

“Merry meet.”

Harry stood up and raised an eyebrow. “Parkinson.”

Pansy’s face flushed at his brusque slight, though Harry couldn’t tell whether it was out of embarrassment or anger.

“Heir Potter.” Pansy started. “I beg your forgiveness for my audacious behaviour last week. I acted no better than a blood-traitor and…”

“You called me a ‘half-blooded blood traitor playing at being noble’.” Harry interrupted.

Pansy flushed darker and she stared at the floor. “I beg your forgiveness.”

Harry studied her. She looked more angry and embarrassed than repentant, still there was no point in drawing the matter out any further. If she did it again though…

“I accept your apology.” He told her. “Do try to be less uncouth in the future.”

“Yes, Heir Potter.” Pansy curtsied again. “May I join you?”

“Yes,” Harry sat back beside Luna.

There was an awkward silence as Pansy sat down near Daphne and Harry turned his attention back to his Potions essay.

“And again with the Lord Malfoy impersonation.” Theo commented. “Merlin, Harry, no one our age should be able to be that intense.”

Harry gave him a half smile. If he really was like Lord Malfoy, he would have known how to deal with his dormmates. It had been over two months since they had decided to stop being his friends and, while he barely missed them anymore, he did wish he had been able to give them a set down like he had given Pansy. Well, it was too late now, it would look silly if he all of a sudden decided to pick a fight with them. But next time something like that happened, he would be prepared.

25-25-25

The next week was Easter Break and most of the students went home for the week. Harry stayed and, to his disappointment, so did ten other Ravenclaws. He had really enjoyed having the Common Room to himself over the Christmas Holidays.

Harry spent most of the holiday practising drawing Ancient Runes. He had less than two months until the end of year exams and he was still having trouble drawing the Runes perfectly. There was absolutely no way he was going to allow himself to get anything less than an Outstanding in the exam though, which meant a lot of practise.

The most exciting thing about Easter Break, was that he got to select his Third Year electives. All the core subjects were still compulsory, so he knew that he would be taking Potions, Herbology, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, History of Magic, Astronomy, and Charms. But he had choose at least two more classes. Some of the decisions were easy. He definitely didn’t want to take Muggle Studies or Care of Magical Creatures and he knew that he definitely wanted to take Fourth Year Ancient Runes. But that left Magical Theory, Arithmancy, Divination and Ancient Studies to choose from.

Normally he wouldn’t have even considered Divination or Arithmancy, seeing the future wasn’t something he was interested in, but maybe they would help him understand his visions. Which, now that he thought about it, was a stupid reason to take a subject. He didn’t even know if the classes would help and he didn’t want to get stuck in a useless class if they didn’t. Which left Magical Theory, Ancient Studies and, of course, Ancient Runes.

It seemed like a massive decision to make on his own. After all, picking the wrong subjects would affect his ability to get a job in the future, so Harry wrote to Sirius to ask for his advice. Sirius’ reply was enthusiastic and, while he admitted thinking Harry was crazy for wanting to take three subjects when he only had to take two, let alone choosing the three that were famous for being the hardest, he approved of Harry’s choice.

The rest of the students returned on Saturday, which meant that Harry, Draco and Luna were able to spend Sunday brewing the potion that they were planning to use to prank the school body. It was an easy potion to brew and only took two and a half hours, a far cry from the month that their last potion had taken.  When they had finished they handed the four cauldrons worth of potion over to Stompy, Harry’s house elf friend, and then went down to dinner filled with excited anticipation.

They didn’t have to wait long, the potion recipe made it so that the potion activated ten minutes after the potion had been ingested (a fact that Harry found fascinating – he couldn’t wait until Snape taught them about time delayed potions) and exactly ten minutes after dinner started the hall was suddenly filled with the sound of people singing.

It sounded hilarious and absolutely terrible. Nobody was singing the same tune and it reminded Harry of the School Song that they always sung at the beginning of the year. Except this time nobody was singing the same words either.

Harry turned his attention to the wall in front of him and waited for Draco activate the words that they had spelled there earlier.

_‘Dear Wizarding Wheezes,_

_We hope you like musicals._

_With Love,_

_The Marauders Apprentices’_

Later, Harry decided that the funniest part of the whole evening was Dumbledore trying to issue threats to whoever it was who was behind the prank, in an opera-esque tune.

The next morning, Dumbledore announced, again sounding more like an opera singer than anything, that classes would be cancelled for the day. Apparently the professors didn’t want to have to teach classes whilst singing. There were a few more threats of detention, loss of points, and even suspension as well, but Harry mostly just ignored those. Draco wasn’t nearly as blasé about the threats and it took Harry and Luna ten minutes to talk him down from his panic.

The potion wore off at dinner that night, much to most people’s relief and a few peoples’ disappointment, so classes started again on Tuesday. The professors, singularly unsympathetic to the students’ plight, gave them all twice as much homework to make up for the day that they had missed. It was logical really, after all exams were less than two months away.

On Thursday, Harry met Neville and Takashi for their weekly wandless magic practise. Harry and Neville had been making a lot of progress. While they still hadn’t managed to levitate the twig without meditating first, both of them could levitate the stick up and down once they had come out of the meditation. Takashi still hadn’t managed to make his stick levitate at all and Harry wasn’t sure how the other boy was still motivated to try. He was sure he would have given up if he had failed for that many months in a row.

Because Takashi’s stick had yet to move even after months of trying, Harry had stopped paying much attention to the older boy’s stick and so almost missed it when it slowly rose off the ground.

Harry had been watching Neville’s stick and it rose up and down, over and over again, when he saw something moving out of the corner of his eyes. Turning around, in case it was another student coming to bother them, he stared in shock at the sight of Takashi’s stick hovering a few inches off the ground. The older boy had a look of intense concentration on his face.

“Neville!” Harry nudged his friend with his foot. “Look!”

Neville’s stick dropped immediately. “What?”

“Look!” Harry repeated. “Takashi’s done it!”

Neville’s eyes widened and he turned around so that he could see Takashi. “Brilliant!”

They watched silently for a few more seconds and then watched as the stick dropped.

“Takashi!” Harry said loudly. “Takashi!”

It took a while, but eventually the older boy opened his eyes. “Is it my turn to take watch?”

“No, you did it!” Harry told him with a grin. “You floated your twig.”

“What?” Takashi looked down at his twig in disbelief. “Really?”

“Really.” Neville nodded. “It was floating a few inches off the ground.”

“Wow.” Takashi shook his head in amazement. “I can’t believe it. I did it!”

“Congratulations.” Harry told him.

“I did it.” Takashi repeated, almost to himself, his eyes focused on the twig. “My father is going to be so proud.”

25-25-25

The day of the last Quidditch game of the season arrived before they knew it and Harry couldn’t help but be jealous of the perfect weather conditions. Why couldn’t it have been this nice for the Ravenclaw games?

After breakfast, Harry and Luna began to make their way back to Ravenclaw tower to get Harry’s Omnioculars. They were halfway up the first staircase when Harry suddenly heard a voice.

"Kill this time ... let me rip ... tear. . ."

Harry spun around quickly. “Who’s there?”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” Luna told him calmly. “It’s just the giant worm.”

Harry stared at her, trying to figure out what she meant. “Do you mean that it’s the thing that was petrifying students?”

“Of course.” Luna nodded.

“Merlin!” Harry’s stomach dropped. “What should we do?”

Luna shrugged and started climbing the stairs again.

“We have to tell someone.” Harry decided as he followed her. “Last time you talked about a giant worm you said that Aurors Moony and Tonks had fought it. Maybe I should tell the Aurors.”

“If you like.” Luna smiled. “Would you like me come with you or should I go and get your omnioculars?”

“I can do it.” Harry told her. “But don’t worry about my omnioclulars. They’re locked in my trunk.”

“Okay, Harry.”

Harry raced back down the stairs and them into the Great Hall. He studied the Head Table, looking for the Aurors, and groaned when he that they weren’t there. Maybe they would be in their classroom? It took Harry four minutes to reach the DADA classroom, though his hurried run had earned him some strange looks from other students.

He knocked loudly on the door and hoped desperately that they were there. When the door swung open, showing Auror Shacklebolt, Harry almost laughed in relief.

“Can I help you?” Auror Shacklebolt asked him.

“Um,” Harry froze. What exactly was he going to say? In order to explain what he’d heard, he would have to admit to being a parselmouth.

“Why don’t you come in?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Thank you, sir.” Harry followed the auror into the classroom. He had to tell him. What if someone got petrified, or worse – killed, because he had wanted to keep a secret? “I think another person is going to be petrified today, sir.”

Shacklebolt looked surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“I’m a…” Harry paused nervously. “I’m a parselmouth, sir.”

If Shacklebolt had looked surprised before, he looked positively stunned now. “You’re a parselmouth?”

“Yes, sir.” Harry answered.

“What’s your name, kid?” Shacklebolt asked.

“Harry Potter.” Harry answered and immediately saw Shacklebolt’s eyes dart to his forehead.

“And you’re a parselmouth?” Shacklebolt asked again.

Harry sighed in frustration. “Yes, sir. I haven’t really told many people because I don’t want them to get upset.”

Shacklebolt nodded. “Okay. So why do you think there is going to be another attack today?”

“I heard a voice.” Harry admitted. “I was on stairs and I heard something talking about killing someone. I was with Luna, Luna Lovegood, I mean, and she didn’t hear anything so I think it must have been in parseltongue.”

“I see.” Shacklebolt studied him for a few seconds. “What staircase were you on?”

“The marble one off the Entrance Hall.” Harry answered.

“Thank you, Mr. Potter.” Shacklebolt told him. “I’ll look into it.”

Harry sighed again, this time in relief. “Thank you, sir.”

25-25-25

An hour later, Harry was sitting in the Quidditch stands waiting for the game to start with Luna, Draco and the other first year Slytherins, when Professor Dumbledore walked out onto the pitch.

“What’s he doing?” Daphne asked in confusion.

“Maybe he’s going to referee.” Theo grinned.

“If I could have your attention please.” Dumbledore’s amplified voice echoed around the stadium. “I am pleased to announce that Aurors Kingsley and Proudfoot have apprehended the creature responsible for the petrifications earlier this year. Please be advised that the third floor will be out of bounds for the rest of the day as they deal with the situation.”

Harry didn’t know when he had last felt so relieved.

25-25-25

 

 


	27. Chapter 26

Sirius eyed the door of 12 Grimmauld Place with trepidation. Narcissa had assured him that she had sent some of her house elves over to clean and redecorate the house (even she admitted that his mother’s taste in interior design had been dreadful), but he had so many bad memories attached to the house. To be honest, he was tempted to just sell the place and buy another house for him and Harry to live in, but Narcissa had convinced him to hold off on the decision until he had seen how she transformed the house.

“You alright?” Remus asked gently from the step below him.

“Yes.” Sirius pushed the door open and stepped inside, only to stop in shock. The hall was nothing like he remembered it being. It was light and welcoming. The old-fashioned gas lamps had been replaced with tasteful modern ones, the wall paper and carpet had been replaced, the ugly umbrella stand that had been made out of a troll’s leg had been replaced by a silver one, and, most importantly, the house-elf heads were gone.

“This isn’t so bad.” Remus commented from behind him.

“Narcissa does good work.” Sirius explained.

“Thank you, my lord.” Narcissa said as she emerged from a door at the end of the hall. She curtsied. “Merry meet.”

“Merry meet.” Sirius responded automatically and heard Remus doing the same.

“I beg your pardon for my presence here, my lord.” Narcissa told him as they approached her. “I was not expecting you for a few hours yet and wanted to ensure that everything was ready for you.”

“Thank you.” Sirius in a heartfelt tone. “The place looks amazing. Will you stay for a drink?”

Narcissa inclined her head in acknowledgement.

Sirius looked around and took in the large landscape portrait on the wall. “That’s new.”

“Yes,” Narcissa agreed. “Your mother’s portrait sat there previously, but I presumed that you would rather have her in a less used part of the house.”

“Or burnt.” Sirius muttered.

“She was very difficult to get off.” Narcissa commented as they walked through the house and into a room that Sirius remembered had once been his mother’s sitting room. The room looked just as light and welcoming as the hallway. “I had to have some goblin cursebreakers to come and take care of it.”

Sirius grimaced. “That sounds like my mother. Stubborn as marble that woman.”

They sat down and Narcissa called for a house elf to serve tea. It wasn’t one that Sirius recognised and it made him wonder whether Kreacher was still around.

“Have you spoken to Dumbledore yet?” Narcissa asked after the tea had been served.

Sirius scowled at the reminder. “I have.”

“I presume that it did not go well?” Narcissa didn’t look at all surprised.

“Professor Dumbledore believes that Harry should remain with his muggle relatives.” Sirius bit out angrily. “Apparently I ought to take a few more years to recover before I attempt to take responsibility for my godson.”

“We even told him about what you said about his relatives.” Remus added. “But he still wouldn’t budge.”

“What will you do?” Narcissa asked.

“Well, there’s no way I’m leaving Harry with those damn muggles.” Sirius told her. “I’ll take Dumbledore to the Wizengamot if I have to. Harry’s my godson!”

“Lucius would be happy assist if you need.” Narcissa offered.

Sirius nodded. “I might just take you up on that.” It felt weird to be allying with the Malfoys against Dumbledore, but Harry was worth it.

“I just don’t get it.” Remus said, not for the first time. “Why would he want Harry to stay there?”

Narcissa sniffed disdainfully. “Who knows how that man’s brain works. Did you hear about the basilisk at Hogwarts?”

“Basilisk?” Sirius’s eyes widened. “The creature petrifying people was a basilisk?”

“Yes.” Narcissa nodded. “Dumbledore refused to allow Amelia to send in anyone to help apprehend it. Merlin knows how many students would have died if she hadn’t found a way to put aurors in the school anyway.”

26-26-26

Rumours were flying like crazy in the weeks after Dumbledore had announce that the creature who had petrified people was gone. Some people said that it had been a Medusa, others claimed that it was cockatrice, while other thought that it had actually been a witch or wizard. Everybody was acting weird and suspicious and even the Weasley twins, along with the rest of their brothers, seemed to be overly protective of their younger sister.

Harry thought that the reactions were bizarre. Why would the news that the perpetrator had been apprehended make people more suspicious and worried? Shouldn’t they be comforted to know that the creature was gone?

Thankfully, the panic died down after a couple of weeks, something that Harry put down to the fact that Professor Snape, Professor Sprout and Madam Pomfrey had finally managed to complete the potion to unpetrify the victims.

The day after the students had been un-petrified the Wizarding Wheezes pranked the school during dinner again – this time giving everyone animal noses. Harry, who ended up with a cat’s nose, thought it was hilarious; Draco, who ended up with a pig’s snout, didn’t enjoy it nearly as much.

Exams started the next day and as Harry looked around the Great Hall at breakfast he wondered what would happen to the students who had spent most of the year petrified. Would they have to repeat their year? Or would they be allowed to try and catch up over the summer? Neither option sounded ideal.

The Charms Exam was first and Harry was almost disappointed by how easy it was. There had been a few questions that he’d had to think hard about, but most of them were easy. The practical part was just as simple and Harry left the exam hoping that his other exams would be more challenging.

Herbology was the next day and, while it was definitely harder than the Charms exam, Harry still thought he’d done well. He just wished he’d spent more time studying the different soil types. Next was Transfiguration, then Astronomy on Friday night, and then they had a break over the weekend.

Harry spent most of it studying, though Draco and Luna managed to convince him to study outside near the lake. The Slytherins were studying too, though not quite as intensely, and Theo and Daphne both teased Harry about the amount of work he was putting into it. Pansy didn’t say anything.

Monday brought their History of Magic exam and, while he left with an aching hand, Harry couldn’t help but feel smug at the sound of his classmates panicking over the test. It served them right for sleeping through class.

Potions class was on Tuesday and both Harry and Draco’s potions turned out the perfect glossy yellow colour. Neville’s potion ended out a glossy green colour though and Harry had absolutely no idea how his friend had done it.

Harry’s classmates spent the rest of Tuesday celebrating the end of their exams and Harry couldn’t help but feel jealous. His Ancient Runes exam wasn’t scheduled until the next Tuesday and, while that gave him a lot of extra time to study for it, he was ready for the year to be over.

Harry spent the next week studying hard for his exam. He was definitely better at the drawing the runes, but he still struggled to get the angles correct. He knew what the runes looked like, but translating that to paper wasn’t easy.

When the morning of the third year Ancient Runes exam finally arrived, Harry was a nervous wreck. What if he failed? What he draw all the runes wrong? What if he forgot everything?

He followed the third years in the exam room and sat at a desk on the far right. When the examiners eventually gave them permission to unroll their exam parchments, Harry read the first question and breathed a sigh of relief. He knew that one! In fact, as Harry worked his way through the test, he found that he knew all the answers. He was still a little concerned about the angles of his runes, particularly the hagall rune.

Still by the time the exam was over, Harry was feeling much more relaxed about the whole thing. It was over, for better or worse, it was over and he couldn’t do anything more to earn a good grade. He was officially on holiday! It was a great feeling. The great feeling lasted for less than an hour. The good thing about studying was that it had taken his mind off the fact that summer was almost there. Without any reason to study, Harry couldn’t help but think about the fact that he still didn’t know whether or not he would be allowed to live with Sirius over the summer. The idea that he might be sent back to the Dursleys was horrible!

The Wednesday edition of the Daily Prophet didn’t help at all.

_‘Lord Black sues Headmaster Dumbledore for Guardianship of Boy-Who-Lived’_

Just reading it made Harry’s stomach drop. Why would Sirius have to sue Dumbledore for guardianship? Shouldn’t his godfather automatically be his guardian? Wasn’t that what his parents had wanted? What if Sirius lost and Dumbledore sent him back to the Dursleys?

Harry waited until the nearest student with a copy of the paper had finished reading it before asking to borrow it. The article was frustratingly uninformative. Basically, Dumbledore was Harry’s guardian, Sirius wanted to be, Lord Malfoy was helping him, and the Wizengamot was going to meet the next day to decide the matter. As unhelpful as the article was, at least the witch who wrote it seemed to be on Sirius’ side. She emphasised that he had been wrongfully imprisoned and pointed out that, without the ministries mistake, Sirius would already be Harry’s guardian.

After returning the paper, Harry stood up and walked quickly out the Great Hall. He wanted to get away from all the students who were staring, pointing and whispering. It reminded him of the year before, during Sirius’ trial.

“Did you know?” Draco asked as he fell into step beside Harry

“No.” Harry sighed. “What if the Wizengamot says no? I don’t want to go back to the Dursleys.”

“They won’t.” Draco said confidently. “There’s no reason why Lord Black shouldn’t be your guardian.”

“So why is Dumbledore fighting him?” Harry asked, inwardly wincing at how whiny he sounded.

Draco snorted. “Because he has no respect for our culture and thinks that children would be better off with muggles than with witches and wizards!”

Harry rolled his eyes. “He can’t seriously think that.”

“Probably not.” Draco admitted. “But it does sound like the sort of thing he’d believe, doesn’t it?”

“A little.” Harry smirked. “But he’s not that bad.”

“Not that bad?” Draco’s voice got louder. “Did you see the decorations at the Hallows Eve feast?”

“Calm down.” Harry rolled his eyes again. “Yes, it’s a travesty, just like the Yule decorations.”

Draco huffed in frustration, but didn’t say anything and Harry breathed a sigh of relief at having managed to prevent one of Draco’s infamous rants.

26-26-26

Thursday was an awful day for Harry. He spent the entire day trying not to obsess over the Wizengamot meeting that was deciding his future, and failing miserably. In the end, to take Harry’s mind off it all, Draco and Luna decided to use their final days to pull one last prank.

“After all,” Draco told Harry. “We can hardly allow the Wizarding Wheezes to have the last word.”

They didn’t have much time to prepare the prank and so spent an hour looking through the Marauders’ Grimoire for ideas. The best thing about the Marauders’ pranks was that they normally only took a few hours to prepare.

In the end they chose a potion that basically turned the drinker’s skin into a mood ring. Red for angry, green for jealous, pink for love, etc.

It was an easy potion to make and they had managed to finish it before dinner. Harry handed the potion off to Stompy, his house elf friend, who was as enthusiastic as ever, and then they made their way down to the Great Hall.

It was smashing! The first change Harry saw was Luna, who turned orange, which according to the book meant peaceful. Luna looked at him and suddenly turned purple the colour of pride. Harry looked around the, now brightly coloured, room and saw that Draco was purple too, the Weasley twins were flushed a bright green, Neville was yellow, Anthony was red, Terry, Michael and Rodney were all a greenish yellow, while Dumbledore was the reddest person in the room. The funniest part was looking for the pink people. Percy Weasley and the girl sitting next to him were bright pink, as was Pansy Parkinson as she stared at Draco. The look on Draco’s face when he saw her colour was absolutely hilarious!

Harry pulled out his wand and quietly cast the spell to reveal the words on the wall.

_‘Dear Wizarding Wheezes,_

_Have a good summer,_

_The Marauders’ Apprentices’_

26-26-26

The colours wore off before the end of dessert, and once Harry had finished his treacle tart he made his way down to Snape’s office for his Occlumency lessons and then knocked on the door. The door swung open on its own, as it did every night, and when Harry entered he saw Professor Snape standing in front of the fire place.

“Merry meet, professor.” Harry greeted him.

Snape bowed, his face twisted into a scowl. “Merry meet, Mr. Potter. There is a floo call for you.”

Harry was so surprised that he almost forgot to nod in acknowledgement of Snape’s bow. “For me?”

“Indeed.” Snape sneered and moved away from the fireplace, revealing Cousin Narcissa’ head.

Harry hurriedly spelled his sleeves so that they were rolled up to his elbows and walked towards the fireplace. Once there, he bowed. “Merry meet, Cousin Narcissa.”

“Merry meet, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa nodded with a smile. “I have some good news for you.”

Harry’s breath caught in excitement.

“The Wizengamot has approved Lord Black’s petition for guardianship.” Cousin Narcissa continued. “He will be waiting for you at Kings Cross Station tomorrow.”

Harry smiled so widely that his face hurt. “Really?”

“Really.” Cousin Narcissa nodded. “He wanted to tell you himself, but I suggested that Severus would be more amendable to having me use his floo.”

Professor Snape snorted disparagingly from where he was sitting.

“Thank you.” Harry told her gratefully. “I was worried that I wouldn’t find out until tomorrow.”

“You are welcome, Harry.” Cousin Narcissa smiled. “Merry part.”

Harry bowed again. “Merry part.”

Cousin Narcissa ended the floo call and Harry turned towards his scowling professor. “Thank you, sir.”

Snape nodded curtly. “Do you believe that you are capable of concentrating this evening, Mr. Potter?”

Harry considered that. Admittedly he felt so excited he wanted to shout, but at the same time, he felt a lot calmer now that he knew he wasn’t going back to the Dursleys.

 “Yes, sir.”

26-26-26

Sirius glanced at the large clock on one of the columns, before shifting nervously. Harry’s train would be here any minute now. He shifted again, before stopping when he heard Narcissa cough disapprovingly.

It was bizarre to be waiting with the Malfoys. Particularly when he remembered that only yesterday they had worked together to oppose Dumbledore. How had this become his life? Wasn’t he supposed to loath the Malfoys and everything they stood for? He remembered Abraxas Malfoy from dinner parties that his mother had thrown when he was a child. Lucius’ father had been a cold man whose idea of humour often involved dead muggles. He had always presumed that Lucius was a carbon copy of his father, he certainly looked like one, but the few conversations he’d had with the man since returning to England disproved that. Traditional Lucius might be and his public persona was certainly cold, but nobody who looked at his wife the way Lucius looked at Narcissa could be accused of being cold.

The sound of a train whistle pulled Sirius from his thoughts and he bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet when he saw the train pulling into the station. Harry would be here any minute!

“Calm down, Sirius.” Remus chided him quietly, while Narcissa coughed disapprovingly again. “Harry will be here soon.”

The train came to a stop and a flood of students poured onto the platform. Sirius remembered being one of those students. Up until his fifth year he had always been one of the last students to get off the train, reluctant to go back to his family, but after he moved in with the Potters he and James had always been among the first.

Sirius searched the sea of students for his godson, but spotting a black haired twelve year old was not an easy task. After a while, he changed tactics and began searching for a child with Malfoy hair – that at least would stand out. Within seconds he spotted two students with hair the colour that was usually associated with the Malfoys, both of whom were slowly making their way towards where Sirius, Remus and the Malfoys were standing. Sirius wondered who the second child was. Surely Narcissa would have mentioned having a second child.

When the students finally reached them, Sirius grinned in delight to see Harry with them. His godson was so big! Sirius still remembered him as a toddler, just learning to walk. Now here he was, a twelve year old. It was amazing!

“Merry meet.” The three children chorused and Sirius noticed that the second child with blond hair was a girl. The three children bowed to him first, and then Draco greeted his parents with polite excitement while Harry and Luna bowed to the Malfoys.

“Merry meet.” Narcissa and Lucius nodded.

“Merry meet.” Sirius added belatedly.

Harry smiled nervously. “Sirius, may I introduce Draconus Malfoy, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy, and Luna Lovegood.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow in surprise. This was the Luna that Harry had occasionally written about. Something jabbed him in the side and he turned to see Remus looking at him expectantly.

“Oh,” Sirius winced, he was so bad at this stuff. Why couldn’t people just smile and nod. Why did they have to be so formal about everything? “Harry, Mr. Malfoy, Miss Lovegood, this is my friend Remus Lupin.”

Harry smiled shyly at Remus. “It’s nice to meet you, sir. Sirius had told me a lot about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Harry.” Remus smiled.

26-26-26

Harry squirmed around as he stared at the ceiling of his bedroom at Sirius’ house. It was nearly midnight, but he was way too excited to sleep. He was living with Sirius and he even had his own bedroom, with the biggest, most comfortable bed he had ever seen.

Sirius was smashing! And his friend Remus was pretty brilliant too. Harry had been a little worried about what to expect from his godfather, after all you could only learn so much about a person through letters, but so far Sirius had been everything Harry had ever dreamed. He didn’t even mind Sarko and Sativa.

There was even a library filled with books that Sirius said Harry was allowed to read. There were some sections that Harry wasn’t allowed to look at until he was older, but Harry figured that was fair enough.

The only bad thing about the house was that there was no place to fly, but Sirius had promised Harry that he could visit Draco a lot – so he would able to use Draco’s Quidditch pitch.

This was going to be the best summer ever!

Suddenly a sharp pain jabbed through Harry’s scar and he couldn’t help but cry out. It felt like it always did after his visions, but he didn’t remember having had one. Besides, Professor Snape thought that Harry’s Occlumency was good enough to keep him from having visions.

Maybe that was what the pain meant. Was he supposed to be having a vision but wasn’t because of his Occlumency?

Harry breathed deeply and sunk into his meditative state, before turning his attention to his city.

There was definitely something wrong, though he wasn’t sure what it was. It was as though something was trying to get through, but it wasn’t doing it in a logical way – it was just trying to break the city down. Harry focussed on whatever it was that was trying to invade his mind and then pushed it out as hard as he could. At first it seemed to work, but then whatever it was that was trying to break in started all over again. Harry didn’t know what to do. He needed Professor Snape.

And then, as quickly as it had begun, it was over and the invader was gone. Harry looked around the city again and winced when he saw how much of it he would need to fix.

He slowly pulled himself out of his meditation and rubbed his scar. What did it mean?

26-26-26

“He’s back?!”

Lucius watched sympathetically as Amelia Bones’ hands shook. “He is.”

“How?!” Amelia asked desperately.

“From what I understand, he has been living in wraith form since his original defeat and last night he had Pettigrew perform a ritual that would restore his body.” Lucius explained. “Bartemius Crouch Senior is dead, I suspect the Dark Lord used him for the ritual.

“But you don’t know.” Amelia was already sounding calmer.

“No, I wasn’t called until after his body had been restored.” Lucius swallowed down a flinch as he remembered the pain he had experienced the previous night. The Dark Lord hadn’t been pleased with any of them and had made his displeasure known. “What are his plans?” Amelia asked.

“I don’t know.” Lucius admitted. “He was more concerned with past events than future ones. He did mention Harry Potter multiple times.”

Amelia sighed. “Of course. Is he aware of your family’s connection to the boy?”

“Yes,” Lucius answered. “He questioned why I had supported Lord Black’s petition for guardianship.”

“And your answer?” Amelia queried.

“That I thought Potter would be easier to attack out of Dumbledore’s hands.” Lucius told her.

“I presume that Dumbledore will know of his return by now?” Amelia asked.

Lucius nodded, Severus would have definitely told him by now.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is the end of Harry Potter at the Knees of the Marauders. I actually wrote this chapter in January and, as I look back on it now, I can’t help but feel a little bad about the cliff hanger I have left you with. Sorry :)
> 
> Anyway, the next part of this story, ‘Harry Potter and the Interlude’, is already written and I have posted the first chapter of it already, so you should go find it on the series page.
> 
> Thank you for continuing to journey with me. Your encouragement and constructive criticism are very inspiring.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who has commented on this story - I really appreciate all your encouragement and feedback.


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